The Child's Request (Lewis Edson)

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• (Posted 2015-11-16)  CPDL #37550:       

Editor: Barry Johnston (submitted 2015-11-16).   Score information: Letter, 1 page, 56 kB   Copyright: Public Domain

Edition notes: Oval note edition, as written in 1782. All nine stanzas included.

• (Posted 2015-11-16)  CPDL #37549:     

Editor: Barry Johnston (submitted 2015-11-16).   Score information: Unknown, 1 page, 62 kB   Copyright: Public Domain

Edition notes: Note shapes added (4-shape). All nine stanzas included.

General Information

Title: The Child's Request
First Line: Thou giver of my life and joy
Composer: Lewis Edson
Lyricist: Anonymous

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB
Genre: Sacred   Meter: 88. 88 (L.M.)

Language: English
Instruments: A cappella

First published: 1782 in The Chorister's Companion, Supplement p. 24
Description: Words by an anonymous author, listed in The Chorister's Companion in nine stanzas.

Original text and translations

English text 1. Thou giver of my life and joy Let songs to thee my tongue employ. While immature this feeble frame, Teach me to lisp thy sacred name. 2. May my fond genius, as I rise, Seek the fair fount where knowledge lies. On wings sublime trace heaven's abode, And learn my duty to my God. 3. From low pursuits exalt my mind – From every vice of every kind. Nor let my conduct ever tend To wound the feelings of a friend.

4. Though golden flowers my path should grace, And joys salute me as I pass, Yet may my generous bosom know, And learn to feel another's woe. 5. If providence should lend me wealth, And joys increased by peace and health, Yet may I ne'er despise the poor, Nor send them begging from my door. 6. If poverty, with stern command, Should grasp me in her iron hand, In my distress, may I receive That kind relief I'd wish to give.

7 An ardent love for sacred truth, Employ my infancy and youth, Live in my life through every stage, And ripen with my ripening age. 8. When time its hoary frost has shed, And silvered over by favored head, May my calm mind reflect intent On length of days in virtue spent. 9. When death his curtain shall o'er-spread, And wrap me if his awful shade, May my blest soul to thee arise, And triumph in her native skies.