At length every one gave up trying to enlist her services, or to obtain contributions from her, for the support of any good cause. And Mrs. Crook bestowed all her thoughts, her affections, her time and her means, on the only person she thought worthy of them all—namely Mrs. Crook herself.
AN EVENING SONG.
BY COUSIN ANNIE.
Twilight dews are gath’ring,
The bright day’s done;
Upon thy downy couch
Rest, little one.
Each tiny bird’s hieing
Home to its nest;
Each flower-head’s nodding
Upon its breast.
Be still now, little heart,
Until the morrow
Brings again its share
Of joy and sorrow.
May angels round thy couch
Be ever nigh,
And over thy slumbers chant
Their lullaby.