Page:Field Poems of Childhood.djvu/128

 And as he lisped his evening prayer

He asked the boon with childish grace;

Then, toddling to the chimney-place,

He hung this little stocking there.

That night, while lengthening shadows crept,

I saw the white-winged angels come

With singing to our lowly home

And kiss my darling as he slept.

They must have heard his little prayer,

For in the morn, with rapturous face.

He toddled to the chimney-place,

And found this little treasure there.

They came again one Christmas-tide,—

That angel host, so fair and white;

And, singing all that glorious night,

They lured my darling from my side.

A little sock, a little toy,

A little lock of golden hair,

The Christmas music on the air,

A watching for my baby boy!

But if again that angel train

And golden-head come back for me,

To bear me to Eternity,

My watching will not be in vain.