He has not learned to despise the dust, and to hanker after gold.

Clasp him to your heart and bless him.

He has come into this land of an hundred cross-roads.

I know not how he chose you from the crowd, came to your door,
and grasped your hand to ask his way.

He will follow you, laughing and talking, and not a doubt in his
heart.

Keep his trust, lead him straight and bless him.

Lay your hand on his head, and pray that though the waves
underneath grow threatening, yet the breath from above may come
and fill his sails and waft him to the haven of peace.

Forget him not in your hurry, let him come to your heart and
bless him.




THE GIFT


I want to give you something, my child, for we are drifting in
the stream of the world.