By cool Siloamís shady rill
1. By cool Siloamís shady rill
How sweet the lily grows!
How sweet the breath, beneath the hill,
Of Sharonís dewy rose!
2. Lo! such the child whose early feet
The paths of peace have trod,
Whose secret heart with influence sweet
Is upward drawn to God.
3. Thou whose infant feet were found
Within Thy Fatherís shrine,
Whose years with changeless virtue crowned,
Were all alike divine.
4. Dependent on Thy bounteous breath,
We seek Thy grace alone,
In childhood, manhood, age, and death,
To keep us still Thine own.