As, musing slow, I hail Thy genial, loved return! For when thy folding-star arising shows And The fragrant Hours, and Elves Who slept in buds the day, many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge, And sheds the freshening dew, and, lovelier still, The pensive Pleasures sweet, Prepare thy shadowy car. Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene; By thy religious gleams. Or, if chill, blustering winds, or driving rain, And hamlets brown, and dim-discovered spires; The gradual, dusky vail. While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont, While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves; ODE TO EVENING. Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes, So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, And love thy favorite name! 295 ANNIE AND WILLIE'S PRAYER. MRS. SOPHIA P. SNOW. WAS the eve before Christmas; "Good night" had been said, And Annie and Willie had crept into bed; There were tears on their pillows, and tears in their eyes, And each little bosom was heavy with sighs- That they should retire precisely at seven, And he hoped after this he should never more hear How he scrambled down chimneys with presents each year; And this was the reason that two little heads So restlessly tossed on their soft, downy beds. Eight, nine, and the clock on the steeple tolled ten, ANNIE AND WILLIE'S PRAYER. "Why, no, brother Willie," a sweet voice replies, But then I've been thinking that she used to pray, "I've been thinking so, too," and without a word more And four little knees the soft carpet pressed, And two tiny hands were clasped close to each breast. "Now, Willie, you know we must firmly believe, That the presents we ask for we're sure to receive; You must wait just as still till I say the Amen, And by that you will know that your turn has come then. "Dear Jesus look down on my brother and me And grant us the favor we're asking of Thee; I want a wax dolly, a tea-set and ring, And a beautiful work-box that shuts with a spring. "Please, Desus, 'et Santa Claus tum down to-night 297 A box full of tandy, a book and a toy- Their prayers being ended they raised up their heads, Eight, nine, and the little French clock had struck ten, So saying, he softly ascended the stairs, And arrived at the door to hear both of their prayers; And Willie's grave promise falls sweet on his ears. Strange! Strange! I'd forgotten," he said, with a sigh, "How I longed when a child to have Christmas draw nigh. "I'll atone for my harshness," he inwardly said, "By answering their prayers ere I sleep in my bed;" Nor stopped he until he had bought everything, |