A Bud In Heaven
A bud the gardener gave me,

A fair and lovely child,

He gave it to my keeping,

To cherish undefiled.

It lay upon my bosom,

It was my hope and pride,

Perhaps it was an idol,

Which I must be denied.

For just as it was opening

To the glory of the day,

Came down the heavenly gardener,

And took my bud away.

Yet not in wrath he took her,

A smile was on her face,

As tenderly and kindly,

He took her from her place.

“Fear no”, I thought he whispered,

“Thy bud shall be restored.

I took it, but to plant it,

In the garden of the Lord.”

He bade me not to sorrow,

As those who helpless weep,

For he who gave, has taken,

And he who took can keep.

So night and morn together,

By the open gate of prayer,

I go unto my darling

And sit beside her there.