He hung this little stocking there.
That night, while lengthening shadows crept,
I saw the white-winged angels come
With singing to our lowly home,
And kiss my darling as he slept.
They must have heard his little prayer,
For in the morn with rapturous face,
He toddled to the chimney-place,
And found this little treasure there.
They came again one Christmas-tide,—