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 under care;
Neglected 'tis ragged and wild,
It's a plant that
is tender and wondrously rare,
The sweet wistful soul of a
Be tender, O gardener, and give it it's share
Of moisture, of warmth and of light,
And let it
not lack for painstaking care
To protect it from frost and
A glad day shall come when it's bloom shall
It will seem that an angel has smiled.
Reflecting a beauty and sweetness untold
In the sensitive
soul of a child.