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Poem	I thought myself indeed secure, So fast the door, so firm the lock; But, lo! he toddling comes to lure My parent ear with timorous knock. My heart were stone could it withstand The sweetness of my baby's plea,-- That timorous, baby knocking and "Please let me in,--it's only me." I threw aside the unfinished book, Regardless of its tempting charms, And opening wide the door, I took My laughing darling in my arms. Who knows but in Eternity, I, like a truant child, shall wait The glories of a life to be, Beyond the Heavenly Father's gate? And will that Heavenly Father heed The truant's supplicating cry, As at the outer door I plead, "'T is I, O Father! only I"?
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