Old Time, who changes all below, To wean men gently for the grave.

God made all pleasures innocent.

A child's eyes, those clear wells of undefiled thought—what on earth can be more beautiful? Full of hope, love and curiosity, they meet your own.

Child murderers practice their profession without let or hindrance, and open infant butcheries unquestioned...Is there no remedy for all this ante-natal child murder?

Old Time, who changes all below, To wean men gently for the grave.

Oh, there at last, life's trials past, / We'll meet our loved ones more, / Whose feet have trod the path to God, -- / Not lost, but gone before.

They serve God well, who serve his creatures.