The soul of a
child is the loveliest flower
That grows in the garden of God.
It climbs from weakness to knowledge and power,
To the sky from the clay and the clod.
To beauty and sweetness it grows
Neglected 'tis ragged and wild,
It's a plant that is tender and wondrously rare,
The sweet wistful soul of a child.
Be tender, O gardener, and give
it its share
Of moisture, of warmth and of light,
And let it not lack for painstaking care
To protect it from frost and the blight.
A glad day shall come when its
bloom shall unfold
It will seem that an angel has smiled.
Reflecting a beauty and sweetness untold
In the sensitive soul of a child.