Happy the child whose youngest years

Receive instructions well;

Who hates the sinner's path, and fears

The road that leads to hell.

When we devote our youth to God,

'Tis pleasing in his eyes;

A flower, when offer'd in the bud,

Is no vain sacrifice.

'Tis easier work if we begin

To fear the Lord betimes;

While sinners, that grow old in sin,

Are harden'd in their crimes.

'Twill save us from a thousand snares

To mind religion young:

Grace will preserve our following years,

And make our virtue strong.

To thee, Almighty God, to thee

Our childhood we resign:

'Twill please us to look back and see

That our whole lives were thine.

Let the sweet work of prayer and praise

Employ my youngest breath!

Thus I'm prepared for future days,

Or fit for early death.