Lord God, Who let Your baby son
Pass earthward where the joys were few
To a hard death when all was done,
And very far away from You;
My little lad must go today
Paths where I cannot guide his feet,
Through dangers that I cannot stay
To strife I cannot help him meet;
He has heard voices calling him
Though youth is gay and life is warm,
And right seems far away and dim,
To weary ways and battle-storm:
Lord God, Whose Son went steadily
Down the hard road He had to tread,
Guard my son too, that he may be
Strong in his hours of doubt and dread!
(Margaret Widdemer)
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