This text comes from A First Series of Hymns and Songs, a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
Sporting through the forest wide,
Playing by the water-side,
Wand'ring o'er the heathy fells,
Down within the woodland dells,
'Mid the mighty, 'mid the mean,
Little children may be seen;
Like the flowers that spring up fair,
Bright, and countless everywhere.
In the far isles of the main,
In the desert's lone domain,
In the rugged mountain glen
'Mid the tribes of savage men,
Wheresoe'er a foot hath gone,
Wheresoe'er the sun hath shone
O'er a league of peopled ground,
Little children may be found.
Little children, not alone
On the wide earth are ye known,
'Mid its labours, 'mid its cares,
'Mid its sufferings, 'mid its snares;
Where no sinful thing hath trod,
In the presence of your God,
Spotless, blameless, glorified,
Little children, ye abide.