Oh! the rising generation Soon will rule throughout the world, And the thoughts we daily teach them Soon like banners be unfurled; Soon our words and tones be copied, And like seeds spring up again, Swaying future generations, Molding hearts and voices then: And again be scattered broadcast, And again in harvest rise. Teach us, Lord, Thy perfect wisdom: Make our hearts and lips and eyes To speak forth tenderness and love. Make the very tone of voice The index to the will subdued, Telling, “We in Christ rejoice.” Give us faith and peace unshaken; In each parent’s heart implant The fear of God, to guard and quicken, Till each thought with God is blent; Till His glorious presence fills With sweet peace no words can tell, And we can every cross endure, Seeing Him invisible. Like Moses then the parent’s face Shall tell what patience Jesus gives; And little wond’ring hearts will trace The path to where Immanuel lives. And little children yearn to know The sweetness of the Saviour’s love. Then, then the world will turn to God. Then children pray with earnest soul; The clouds of unbelief will flee, And light shall spread from pole to pole, As millions bear the Gospel on And scatter Day-beams through the earth, Till all the nations shall arise Rejoicing in immortal birth. That glorious day my soul shall see; Perchance on earth, or looking forth From Heaven’s heights of amethyst Rejoicing o’er the ransomed earth. Rise, Christian, rise. Wake, parent, wake. The Rising Generation calls; Go onward and proclaim the road. WHY THE BABIES WENT HOME The other side the Pearly Gates Have a myriad babies gone Because their robes were all too thin For the chilly eve and dawn. Or the little shoes were cold and damp From the wet grass of the lawn. The other side the Pearly Gates Have a myriad babies fled Because in the tender baby-days They were given flesh and bread, Though God made milk, the delicious milk For the babies to be fed. The other side the Pearly Gates A myriad babies went, Because no sweet love greeted them In the hours when they were sent; And the way was all too hard and cold For the little ones God lent. The other side the Pearly Gates God made the loveliest place For the wee ones come back to Him; And they always “see His face.” The sweetest joys of heaven are theirs, In the Home of endless grace. BLESSINGS OF GOD God made the milk to be Creamy and sweet, For all of His children To drink and to eat. To make all His frail ones Grow happy and strong, Give them the precious milk Sweet as a song.