Hymns and other poems for children :: :: University of Virginia Library

EMMA'S DREAM.

My little contribution,
With ready heart and hand,
I gave, to send the Word of God
To distant heathen land:
And ere I went to rest that night,
I kneeled to God in prayer,
That he would change my gift to light
For souls in darkness there.

When I was lost in slumber,
There seemed just o'er my bed,
An angel child, with beaming brow
And shining wings out-spread;
And stainless seemed the robe to flow
About that lovely one,

As lies a glowing sheet of snow
Beneath the morning sun.

A touch of golden glory
Was on her wavy hair;
Her face, with rose-tint on the cheek,
Was like the lily fair.
And oh! she sang a holy song,
Which angels only know
To sound in their adoring throng;
And never learnt below!

She told a hasty story
About her life on earth,
When here a little dark Hindoo,
Of distant Indian birth;
That once her parents were of those
Who God in Ganges deem,
Where oft her babe the mother throws,
An offering, on the stream:

But when the missions taught them
To read the WORD, and pray
To God in Heaven, through Jesus' name,
Their gods were cast away;

That e'er she died, she loved to sing
How Christ for her could die:
And then he gave her spirit wing
To soar to him on high.

I drew my breath, to ask her
About the joys above;
When silently she disappeared,
With parting smile of love!
Awaking then, I prayed for more
That I might send away
To shed upon some heathen shore
The beams of gospel day.