Bless those little MOABites
    That should have gone to school;
Blessed be the MOABites
    That obey the golden rule.
MOABites, love your betters,
    For they have cared for you;
When you were little infants
    They watched and prayed for you.

Love your little thread-mates,
    Be gentle in your play,
Be kind to your betters,
    And their commands obey.

Oh! then you will be happy
    In the world that seems so trite,
For then your friends will love you
    Forever, MOABites.