Parental Providence Poem by John Bowring

As gentle children fondly press
Around their mother's knee,
So, in my spirit's helplessness,
I fly, my God! to Thee:
And, as a mother's cares protect
Her offspring from alarm,
Do Thou preserve, do Thou direct,
Thy children, Lord! from harm.


'Tis sweet beneath Thy love to be
In safe and silent rest,
As sleeps an infant on the knee
Of her who loves it best:
Thy love is wiser, kinder far
Than any earthly tie;
Thou knowest all we want, and are,
And, knowing, wilt supply.