Heavenly Echoes

Children’s songs are heav’n­ly ech­oes

From the spir­it choirs ab­ove

Echoes from the ho­ly mount­ains

Bosomed in the land of love;

While the an­gel bands are sing­ing

While the gold­en harps are ring­ing

Babes on earth re­peat the strain

Listen to the sweet re­frain.

Angels sing­ing

child­ren ring­ing

Out the ech­oes through the land;

Heav’nly chor­us

float­ing o’er us

From the sweet se­raph­ic band.

Children’s thoughts like birds of Heav­en

Drink the eth­er of the skies

Mounting up on snowy pin­ions

To the gates of para­dise:

There they learn sad Cal­va­ry’s story

Catch se­raph­ic notes of glo­ry

Echoing soft each note that thrills

Back among the gold­en hills.

Hark! how sweet the heav’n­ly ech­oes

Caught from pure ce­les­ti­al lays—

From the mouths of babes and suck­lings

Jesus hath per­fect­ed praise.

Let the child­ren keep on sing­ing

While the courts of Heav’n are ring­ing

Let the youth­ful voic­es rise

In the an­thems of the skies.