When the night has come, and the lights are out,
And the shuddering shadows creep about
The moon shines in through the curtain lace
With her gentle eyes, and her quiet face,
And says with a smile that calms me, quite,
“I am God’s bright angel over the night,
So go to sleep; don’t be afraid;
For a child’s sweet comfort was I made”;
’Tis something just a child can see
And not for grown-ups, but for me.
I’m glad I’m a child, for it seems too bad
To miss so much that would make you glad.
THE HEN
The hen is such a funny fowl
For all she has to do
Is walk around all day, and eat,
And cock her eye at you;
And always, when she’s being fed
She quickly singles out
The choicest bit, and seizing it
She rushes all about
And eats it far from other hens
With quite a show of greed;
Then cocks her eye and walks about—
Oh, what a life to lead!