Sing to the Lord the children's hymn,
His gentle love declare,
Who bends amid the seraphim
To hear the children’s pray’r.

He at a mother's breast was fed,
Though Gods own Son was he,
He learnt the first small words he said
At a meek mother's knee.

Close to his loving heart he press'd
The children of the earth;
He lifted up his hands and bless’d
The babes of human birth.

See! From the stars his face will turn
On us with glances mild,
The angels of his presence yearn
To bless the little child.

Keep us. O Jesus Lord for you,
That so, by your dear grace,
We, children of the font, may view
Our heav'nly Father's face.