JUST six years old was little May, 

Just six years old that happy day, 

When she as usual, lovingly, 

With good-night kisses, came to me, 

But with a sunny, beaming face, 

E'en so beyond its wonted grace, 

I wondered, and, by impulse led,

"What is it, darling?" softly said. 

The little face grew brighter still; 

With joyful tears my eyes did fill, 

For quickly answered little May,

"Oh, Jesus loves me, and today 

He told me, not out loud, you know, 

But just as true he told me so; 

And right away I answered, too, 

'O dear, dear Jesus, I love you!' 

And I am glad as glad can be 

That I love him, and he loves me!"

With words of my great joy a part, 

I drew her closer to my heart; 

"Oh, happy little May," I thought, 

"So early to such knowledge brought, 

So soon in life to find the Friend 

Whom she can trust till life shall end! 

To her, come care or sorrow, ne'er, 

Since she has Jesus, need she fear. 

To her, joys bountiful and pure, 

His favor ever will insure. 

Oh that all little folks might know 

As early this dear Saviour! Oh, 

How happy each one that can say, 

As confident as little May, 

"I am as glad as glad can be 

That I love him, and he loves me."