A Reed by the River/Children

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CHILDREN
We are but children, with a work and playtime,
A little hour for laughter and for tears,
A little clinging to the waning daytime,
A little yielding unto futile fears

We are but children, filling Time's great measure,
Breaking a toy to weep when it is done;
Forth from morn's meadows do we reap of pleasure
Little to bear hence at set of sun.

We are but children, weary with pursuing,
Building awhile beside the Bar of Pain;—
Lord, in life's dusk, forget Thou all misdoing,
And gather us unto Thy heart again!

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