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"I'll lend you, for a
little while,
a child of mine," He said.
For you to love while he lives,
and mourn when he is dead.
It may be six or seven years,
or twenty-two, or three,
But will you, till I call him back,
take care of him for me?
He'll bring his charms to gladden you,
And shall his stay be brief,
You'll have his lovely memories
as solace for your grief.
I cannot promise he will stay,
as all from earth return,
But there are lessons taught down there
I want this child to learn.
I've looked the wide world over
in my search for teachers true,
And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes,
I have selected you.
Now will you give her all your love -
Not think the labor vain,
Nor hate me when I come to call
to take her back again.
I fancied that I heard them say,
"Dear Lord, thy will be done."
For all the joy this child shall bring,
the risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shower her with tenderness
And love her while we may,
And for the happiness we've known,
Forever grateful stay.
And should the angels call for her
much sooner than we planned.
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes,
And try to understand.
Edgar A.
Guest, 1881-1959
Columnist
for the Detroit Free Press
Also referred to as "The Poet of the People"
This
poem is part of the Inspiration Peak
Endings
and Beginnings Collection
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