Then naked and white, all their bags left behind, They rise upon clouds and sport in the wind; And the angel told Tom if he'd be a good boy, He'd have God for his father and never want joy.

And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark,
And got with our bags and our brushes to work.
Tho' the morning was cold Tom was happy and warm:
So if all do their duty they need not fear harm.

THE LITTLE BOY LOST.

ATHER! father! where are you going?

FAT

O, do not walk so fast.

Speak, father, speak to your little boy,

Or else I shall be lost.

The night was dark, no father was there;
The child was wet with dew;

The mire was deep and the child did weep,
And away the vapour flew.

THE LITTLE BOY FOUND.

T

HE little boy lost in the lonely fen,

Led by the wandering light,

Began to cry; but God, ever nigh,
Appear'd like his father in white :

He kiss'd the child, and by the hand led, And to his mother brought,

Who, in sorrow pale, thro' the lonely dale, Her little boy weeping sought.

S

A CRADLE SONG.

WEET dreams, form a shade

O'er my lovely infant's head;

Sweet dreams of pleasant streams By happy, silent, moony beams.

Sweet sleep, with soft down Weave thy brows an infant crown. Sweet sleep, angel mild, Hover o'er my happy child.

Sweet smiles in the night

Hover over my delight;

Sweet smiles, mother's smiles, All the livelong night beguiles.

Sweet moans, dove-like sighs, Chase not slumber from thy eyes. Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,

All the dovelike moans beguiles.

Sleep, sleep, happy child,

All creation slept and smiled;
Sleep, sleep, happy sleep,

While o'er thee thy mother weep.

Sweet babe, in thy face

Holy image I can trace.

Sweet babe, once like thee

Thy Maker lay and wept for me.

Wept for me, for thee, for all

When He was an infant small.

Thou His image ever see,

Heavenly face that smiles on thee.

Smiles on thee, on me, on all;

Who became an infant small.

Infant smiles are His own smiles;

Heaven and earth to peace beguiles.