O'er all my song the image of a face Lieth, like shadow on the wild sweet flowers. The dream, the ecstasy that prompts my powers; The golden lyre's delights bring little grace To bless the singer of a lowly race. Long hath this mocked... Read more of The Negro Singer at Martin Luther King.caInformational Site Network Informational
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The Felling Of The Tree
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The Adoration Of The Wise Men
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The Greatest Of These
JOSEPH MILLS HANSON THE outside door swung open su...

How Christmas Came To The Santa Maria Flats
ELIA W. PEATTIE THERE were twenty-six flat childre...

Ballade Of Christmas Ghosts
ANDREW LANG Between the moonlight and the fi...

The Glorious Song Of Old
EDMUND H. SEARS It came upon the midnight cl...





Hang Up The Baby's Stocking






[Emily Huntington Miller]

Hang up the baby's stocking:
Be sure you don't forget;
The dear little dimpled darling!
She ne'er saw Christmas yet;
But I've told her all about it,
And she opened her big blue eyes,
And I'm sure she understood it--
She looked so funny and wise.

Dear! what a tiny stocking!
It doesn't take much to hold
Such little pink toes as baby's
Away from the frost and cold.
But then for the baby's Christmas
It will never do at all;
Why, Santa wouldn't be looking
For anything half so small.

I know what will do for the baby.
I've thought of the very best plan:
I'll borrow a stocking of grandma,
The longest that ever I can;
And you'll hang it by mine, dear mother,
Right here in the corner, so!
And write a letter to Santa,
And fasten it on to the toe.

Write, This is the baby's stocking
That hangs in the corner here;
You never have seen her, Santa,
For she only came this year;
But she's just the blessedest baby!
And now, before you go,
Just cram her stocking with goodies,
From the top clean down to the toe.





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