But, worn with their toilsome watch, they slept,
While slowly o'er their foreheads crept,
The golden light of the morning sun,
Like a victor's crown, when his palm is won.
"God bless you, children!" the keeper cried;
"God bless thee, father!" the boy replied.
"I dreamed that there stood beside my bed
A beautiful angel, who smiled and said,
'Blessed are they whose love can make
Joy of labor, for mercy's sake!'"