God, Who Hath Made the Daisies

God

who hath made the dai­sies

And eve­ry love­ly thing

He will ac­cept our prais­es

And heark­en while we sing;

Will say

though we are simple

Though ig­no­rant we be

Suffer the lit­tle child­ren

And let them come to Me.

Though we are young and sim­ple

In praise we may be bold;

The child­ren in the temple

He heard in days of old;

And if our hearts are hum­ble

He says to you and me

Suffer the lit­tle child­ren

And let them come to Me.

He sees the bird that wing­eth

Its way o’er earth and sky;

He hears the lark that sing­eth

Up in the heav’n so high;

He sees the heart’s low breath­ings

And says (well pleased to see)

Suffer the lit­tle child­ren

And let them come to Me.