We looked like a winged snow-flake.
But soon at a homestead we halted,
Old Santa said I must alight,
To see if the children were sleeping,
And leave them whatever was right.
So I crept to the casement—it opened,
And I saw what I ne’er shall forget—
Those darlings there slumbering sweetly,
The thoughts of the night-fall had met.
We gave them all kinds of nice presents,