A MOTHER'S PRAYER

I wash the dirt from little feet,
    And as I wish I pray,
"Lord, keep them ever pure and true
    To walk the narrow way!"
I wash the dirt from little hands,
    And earnestly I ask,
"Lord, may they ever yielded be
    To do the humblest task!"
I wash the dirt from little knees,
    And pray, "Lord, may they be
The place where victories are won,
    And orders sought from Thee!"
I scrub the clothes that soil so soon
    And pray, "Lord, may her dress
Throughout eternal ages be
    Thy robe of righteousness."

E'er many hours shall pass, I know,
    I'll wash these hands again;
And there'll be dirt upon her dress
    Before the day shall end.
But as she journeys on through life
    And learns of want and pain,
Lord, keep her precious little heart
    Cleansed from all sin and stain;
For soap and water cannot reach
    Where Thou alone can'st see.
Her hands and feet, these I can wash--
    I trust her heart to Thee.
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