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THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, Cal. · May 23, 1906

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 32, No. 20.

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THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN.

By Edgar Goldsbury Fields

[By Edgar Goldsbury Fields, in the Examiner.]
Our hills lie naked, gaunt, and gray. With ashes heaped on hearth and head We stand in funeral array And mourn our dead.
When fair winds blow we rate as men; When cities sway and tremble, we Are but Thy little children then, Who turn to Thee.
Help us to meet each day's demands; With Thine own strength our hearts endow; We ask Thy blessing on the hands That help us now.
It was our habit, day by day, To heed Thee not when it was light; But help us, God, to find our way Through this—our Night.