THE baby sleeps and smiles. As if he thought to spy, By coyly peeping out, The funny elf that brought Would I some way could find What picture, tiny, fair, Delights his eyes? See! now he smiles once more; Perhaps there is before His mental sight portrayed Some vision blest Of that dear land of rest, That far-off heaven, From whence his new-created soul Has lately strayed; Or to his ear, perchance, are given As yet his soul is spotless. Why Why not within NO BABY IN THE HOUSE. No baby in the house, I know, No tender kisses to be given; No nicknames, "Dove" and "Mouse"; No merry frolics after tea, No baby in the house! CLARA G. DOLLIVER. BABY'S SHOES. O, THOSE little, those little blue shoes! Those shoes that no little feet use! O, the price were high That those shoes would buy, Those little blue unused shoes! For they hold the small shape of feet That, by God's good-will, And ceased from their totter so sweet. And O, since that baby slept, So hushed, how the mother has kept, With a tearful pleasure, That little dear treasure, And over them thought and wept ! For they mind her forevermore Of a patter along the floor; And blue eyes she sees Look up from her knees With the look that in life they wore. As they lie before her there, There babbles from chair to chair A little sweet face That's a gleam in the place, With its little gold curls of hair. Then O, wonder not that her heart From all else would rather part Than those tiny blue shoes And whose sight makes such fond tears start! WILLIAM C. BENNETT. THE MOTHER'S STRATAGEM. AN INFANT PLAYING NEAR A PRECIPICE. WHILE on the cliff with calm delight she kneels, From the Greek of LEONIDAS of Alexandria, Hey, Willie Winkie! are ye comin' ben? But here's a waukrife laddie, that winna fa' asleep. Ony thing but sleep, ye rogue :- glow'rin' like the moon, Rattlin' in an airn jug wi' an airn spoon, Rumblin', tumblin' roun' about, crawin' like a cock, Skirlin' like a kenna-what-wauknin' sleepin' folk! |