1 O, say not, think not, heavenly notes To childish ears are vain, -- That the young mind at random floats, And cannot reach the strain.

2 Was not our Lord a little child, Taught by degrees to pray, By father dear and mother mild Instructed day by day?

3 And loved he not of heaven to talk With children in his sight, To meet them in his daily walk, And to his arms invite?

4 And though some tones be weak and low, What are all prayers beneath, But cries of babes, that cannot know Half the deep thought they breathe?

5 In his own words we Christ adore; But angels, as we speak, Higher above our meaning soar Than we o'er children weak.

6 And yet his words mean more than they, And yet he owns their praise; O, think not that he turns away From infants' simple lays!