Kids Poems » The Dewy Flower

The dewy flower that morn unfolds,
With pure and grateful eye,
Its native earth around beholds,
Above, the shining sky.

Its pearly crown -- a tribute meet -
To dust beneath it gives ;
And from its heart the odors sweet,
To Him by whom it lives.

Its spicy breath ascends on air,
Like childhood's hymn of praise ;
Or seeks its Maker, like the prayer,
Some infant heart may raise.

Adoring God, delighting man,
It seems with aim sincere
To serve as far as floweret can
Its being's purpose here.

Would children emulate the flowers
With hearts to God as true,
Would they to him devote their powers,
What good each child might do !

For God beholds our humblest aim
To serve his righteous laws ;
To glorify the Savior's name,
His kingdom and his cause.

W'here mind is but a wilderness,
With souls in heathen night,
Our feeblest efforts he will bless
To shed the Gospel light.

Some little self-denying deed,
For heathen land, may shine,
A kindling star ; or like a seed.
Spring up a fruitful vine.

An owner may come out, and pluck
His flower, at opening day ;
Or canker at its vitals suck
Its new-found life away.

And childhood is the morning hour
Of life's just opening bloom,
When death may snap the dewy flower,
And lay it in the tomb.

But if at life's bright rising sun
The heart to God be given,
Though plucked from earth a budded one,
The soul unfolds in Heaven.