by Edgar Guest
"I'll lend you for a little time a child
of mine, "He said.
For you to love the while he lives and
mourn for when he's dead.
It may be six or seven years, or twenty-two
or three,
But will you, till I call him back, take
care of him for me?
We'll bring him charms to gladden you,
and should his stay be brief,
you'll have his lovely memories as
solace for your grief.
"I cannot promise he will stay, since
all from earth return,
But there are lessons taught down there
I want this child to learn.
I've looked the wide world over in My
search for teachers true
and from the throngs that crowd life's
lanes I have selected you.
Now will you give him all your love
nor think the labor vain,
Nor hate Me when I come to call
to take him back again?
I fancied that I heard them say
"Dear Lord, Thy will be done!
For all the joy Thy child shall bring,
the risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter him with tenderness, we'll
love him while we may,
and for the happiness we've known,
forever grateful stay;
But should the angels call for him
much sooner than we've planned,
we'll brave the bitter grief that comes
and try to understand."
