I Think When I Read That Sweet Story of Old Lyrics
Jemima Luke
I think, when I read that sweet story of old,
When Jesus was here among men,
How He called little children as lambs to His fold,
I should like to have been with them then.
I wish that His hands had been placed on my head,
That His arms had been thrown around me,
And that I might have seen His kind look when He said,
Let the little ones come unto Me.
Yet still to His foot stool in prayer I may go;
And ask for a share in His love;
And if I thus earnestly seek Him below,
I shall see Him and hear Him above.
But thousands and thousands who wander and fall,
Never heard of that heavenly home;
I wish they could know there is room for them all,
And that Jesus has bid them to come.
In that beautiful place He has gone to prepare
For all who are washed and forgiven;
And many dear children shall be with Him there,
For of such is the kingdom of heaven.
I long for the joy of that glorious time,
The sweetest and brightest and best,
When the dear little children of every clime
Shall crowd to His arms and be blest.
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Below are more powerful stories on hymns and lyrics:
You May Have the Joy Bells Hymn
I Think When I Read That Sweet Story of Old Story
JEMIMA THOMPSON, who afterward married the Rev. Samuel Luke wrote this hymn in 1841.
Like many hymns, it was partly inspired by a tune in this case a Greek melody the pathos of which stirred the author s fancy as she read it at the Normal Infant School at Gray’s Inn Road.
She once wrote: “I went one day on some missionary business to the little town of Wellington, five miles from Faunton, in a stagecoach.
It was a beautiful spring morning; it was an hour’s ride and there was no other inside passenger.
On the back of an old envelope, I wrote in pencil the first two of the verses now so well-known…. The third verse was added afterward to make it a missionary hymn.”
One day a newsboy in New York entered a bank with a bundle of papers under his arm and asked two gentlemen sitting before a fire: “Papers, sirs? Three more banks down!”
“No,” replied one of them, “we don’t want any. But stop! If you will sing us a song we will buy one.”
The boy agreed; and, expecting to hear a jovial song, they placed the little ten-year-old on a table. But he surprised them by singing,
“I think, when I read that sweet story of old.”
Soon they were both in tears.
They bought his papers and took his name and address; and the song of the Sunday school lad turned their thoughts to the olden story, “When Jesus was here among men.”
