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THE ANGELS' WHISPER.
A BABY was sleeping ;
Its mother was weeping; For her husband was far on the wild raging sea ;
And the tempest was swelling
Round the fisherman's dwelling ; And she cried, “ Dermot, darling, oh come back
Her beads while she number'd,
The baby still slumber'd, And smiled in her face as she bended her knee:
Oh, blest be that warning,
My child, thy sleep adorning, For I know that the angels are whispering with
And while they are keeping
Bright watch o'er thy sleeping,
thou wouldst rather They'd watch o'er thy father! For I know that the angels are whispering to
The dawn of the morning
Saw Dermot returning, And the wife wept with joy her babe's father to
And closely caressing
Her child with a blessing, Said, “I knew that the angels were whispering with thee."
“SWEET AND LOW."
SWEET and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Wind of the western sea!
Blow him again to me,
Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to thee soon ;
Under the silver moon:
THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE.
WHEN I was sick and lay a-bed,
And sometimes for an hour or so
And sometimes sent my ships in fleets
I was the giant great and still
ROBERT Louis STEVENSON.
Why is it the children don't love me
As they do mamma?
Little mamma ?
Any game that the tyrants suggest,
When Noah and the others embark,
For the show on the stair
I'm always the bear,
My umbrella's the
That the youngsters are ingrates don't say. I think they love me—in a way