I Would I Were A Child

I would I were a child,         That I might look, and laugh, and say, My Father!         And follow thee with running feet, or rather             Be led through dark and wild!             How I would hold thy hand,         My glad eyes often to thy glory lifting!         Should darkness 'twixt thy face and mine come drifting,             My heart would but expand.             If an ill thing came near,         I would but creep within thy mantle's folding,         Shut my eyes close, thy hand yet faster holding,             And soon forget my fear.             O soul, O soul, rejoice!         Thou art God's child indeed, for all thy sinning;         A poor weak child, yet his, and worth the winning             With saviour eyes and voice.             Who spake the words? Didst Thou?         They are too good, even for such a giver:         Such water drinking once, I should feel ever             As I had drunk but now.             Yet sure the Word said so,         Teaching our lips to cry with his, Our Father!         Telling the tale of him who once did gather             His goods to him, and go!             Ah, thou dost lead me, God!         But it is dark and starless, the way dreary;         Almost I sleep, I am so very weary             Upon this rough hill-road.             Almost! Nay, I do sleep;         There is no darkness save in this my dreaming;         Thy fatherhood above, around, is beaming;             Thy hand my hand doth keep.             With sighs my soul doth teem;         I have no knowledge but that I am sleeping;         Haunted with lies, my life will fail in weeping;             Wake me from this my dream.             How long shall heavy night         Deny the day? How long shall this dull sorrow         Say in my heart that never any morrow             Will bring the friendly light?             Lord, art thou in the room?         Come near my bed; oh, draw aside the curtain!         A child's heart would say Father, were it certain             That it would not presume.             But if this dreary sleep         May not be broken, help thy helpless sleeper         To rest in thee; so shall his sleep grow deeper--             For evil dreams too deep.             Father! I dare at length;         My childhood sure will hold me free from blaming:         Sinful yet hoping, I to thee come, claiming             Thy tenderness, my strength.