Lord! Oh, hold in Thy hand my child, <br /> Guard by the river its playing! <br />Send Thou Thy Spirit as comrade mild, <br /> Lest it be lost in its straying! <br />Deep is the water and false the ground. <br />Lord, if His arms shall the child surround, <br /> Drowned it shall not be, but living, <br /> Till Thou salvation art giving. <br /> <br />Mother, whom loneliness befalls, <br /> Knowing not where it is faring, <br />Goes to the door, and its name there calls; <br /> Breezes no answer are bearing. <br />This is her thought, that everywhere <br />He and Thou for it always care; <br /> Jesus, its little brother, <br /> Follows it home to mother.<br /><br />Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-mother-s-song/
