O holy Lord, content to fill
In lowly home the lowliest place;
Thy childhood's law, a mother's will;
Obedience meek, Thy brightest grace.
Lead every child that bears Thy name
To walk in Thine own guileless way,
To dread the touch of sin and shame,
And humbly, like Thyself, obey.
So shall we, waiting here below,
Like Thee, our Lord, a little span,
In wisdom and in stature grow,
And favor with both God and man.