The Touch of a Baby's Hands

One little hand is lying
So quietly on my breast,
While my little sleeping baby
Close to my heart is pressed;
And the feeling of awe and wonder
I cannot understand,
That fills and thrills my being
At the touch of a baby's hand.

'Tis mine to love and cherish,
This little one in my care;
To keep him pure and sinless
Shall be my constant prayer.
Wonderful love of the Father
Who for His children planned
That they might know the sweetness
Of the touch of a baby's hand.

Dear little hand, how I love it!
As I hold it in my own.
I feel its tug at my heartstrings,
The strongest I have ever known.
Of the joys that may come to mortals
This side of the Better Land,
The dearest, the sweetest, the purest,
Is the touch of a baby 's hand.

Honoria A. Groves