My Bud in Heaven

A bud the Gar­den­er gave me

A fair and love­ly child

He gave it for my keep­ing

To cherish un­de­filed;

It lay up­on my bosom

It was my joy and pride

Perhaps it was an id­ol

Which I must be de­nied.

For just as it was op­en­ing

In glo­ry to the day

Down came the heav­en­ly Gard­en­er

And took my bud away;

Yet not in wrath He took it—

A smile was on His face

And ten­der­ly and kind­ly

He bore it from its place.

Fear not

me­thought He whis­pered

Thy bud shall be re­stored;

I take it but to plant it

In the gar­den of My Lord;

And bade me not to sor­row

As those who hope­less weep

For He who gave hath tak­en

And He who took can keep.

And night and morn to­ge­ther

By the op­en gate of pray­er

I’ll go un­to my dar­ling

And sit be­side him there;

I know for me ’twill op­en

Poor sin­ner though I be

For He who guards and keeps it

Will keep my bud for me.