Happy the Child Whose Youngest Years

Happy the child whose young­est years

Receive in­struct­ions well;

Who hates the sin­ner’s path

and fears

The road that leads to hell.

When we de­vote our youth to God

’Tis pleas­ing in His eyes;

A flow­er

when of­fered in the bud

Is no vain sac­ri­fice.

’Tis ea­si­er work if we be­gin

To fear the Lord be­times;

While sin­ners

that grow old in sin

Are hard­ened in their crimes.

’Twill save us from a thou­sand snares

To mind re­li­gion young:

Grace will pre­serve our fol­low­ing years

And make our vir­tue strong.

To Thee

Al­migh­ty God

to Thee

Our child­hood we re­sign:

’Twill please us to look back and see

That our whole lives were Thine.

Let the sweet work of pray­er and praise

Employ my young­est breath!

Thus I’m pre­pared for fu­ture days

Or fit for ear­ly death.