(This must be spoken as if singing a lullaby to a baby, with motions indicating the sleeping child near.)
| Oh, hush thee, little dear, my
soul, The evening shades are falling; Hush thee, my dear, dost thou not hear The voice of the Master calling? Deep lies the snow upon the earth, But all the sky is ringing With joyous song, and all night long The stars shall dance with singing. Oh, hush thee, little dear, my soul, And close thine eyes in dreaming, And angels fair shall lead thee where The singing stars are beaming. A shepherd calls his little lambs, And he longeth to caress them; He bids them rest upon his breast, That his tender love may bless them. So, hush thee, little dear, my soul, Whilst evening shades are falling, And above the song of the heavenly throng Thou shall hear the Master calling. |
—Eugene Field.
By SUSIE M. BEST.
| With a click and a
clack And a great big pack, Down through the chimney, Pretty nimbly Somebody comes on Christmas eve! If we are real nice And as still as mice, If we never peep, And are sound asleep, He'll fill our stockings, I do believe! And when we arise Next day our eyes Will grow big to see How perfectly He knew what we all wished to receive! |