by Charlotte Mason
In the
Kingdom are the children;
You
may read it in their eyes;
All
the freedom of the Kingdom
In
their careless humour lies.
Very
winsome are the children,
Say,
whence comes it, their sweet grace?
Small
the pains they take for goodness,
Scarcely
know they Duty's face.
Frail
and faulty little lieges,
Yet
well-pleasing to their King:
Scanty
thought they take to serve Him;
Yet
the chosen Offering bring;
Ours,
the weary long endeavour;
Theirs,
the happy entering in:
Ours,
to strive and wait and labour;
Theirs,
to joy before the King!
"Except
ye be as the children,
Have
ye in my courts no place:"
Lord,
how meekly would we ponder
The
glad secret of their grace!
Not in
holy painful living;
Not in
tears nor suppliant prayers;
Not in
white days free from sinning,
No
such sanctity is theirs.
What
do they to take the Kingdom?
Only
this leave they undone
Suffering
Christ the King within them,
They
in nought invade His throne:
On the
children's brows no witness
That
themselves do fill their thought;
In the
children's hearts no strivings
That
to them be honour brought.
Therefore
finds the King an entrance;
Freely
goes He out and in;
Sheds
the gladness of His presence;
Doth
for babes great victories win!
Charlotte Mason
Proofread by Naomi Goegan, Feb 2013
Top | Copyright © 2002-2021 AmblesideOnline. All rights reserved. Use of these resources subject to the terms of our License Agreement. | Home |