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Jesus halted on his way, And many thronged to see, Though some forbade, yet would he say, "Come, little ones, to me."

Oh, happy then that infant band That gathered round his knee, And happy they who kiss'd the hand That bled to set them free.

Had I been near him on that day, His gracious smile to see; Had I been near to hear him say, "Come, little ones, to me;"—

Oh, what were then a throne above Or seraph's seat on high, Compared with one sweet glance of love From that all-pitying eye!