We were without internet yesterday, and so I again was unable to publish my Children’s Hour post on Friday. Yet here it is now!

A Candle

A candle, a candle
To light me to bed;
A pillow, a pillow
To tuck up my head.

The moon is as sleepy as sleepy can be,
The stars are all pointing their fingers at me,
And Missus Hop-Robin, ‘way up in her nest,
Is rocking her tired little babies to rest.

So give me a blanket
To tuck up my toes,
And a little, soft pillow
To snuggle my nose.
~Leroy F. Jackson

The Sleepy Song

As soon as the fire burns red and low
And the house upstairs is still,
She sings me a queer little sleepy song,
Of sheep that go over the hill.

The good little sheep run quick and soft,
Their colors are gray and white;
They follow their leader nose and tail,
For they must be home by night.

And one slips over, and one comes next,
And one runs after behind;
The gray one’s nose at the white one’s tail,
The top of the hill they find.

And when they get to the top of the hill
They quietly slip away,
But one runs over and one comes next-
Their colors are white and gray.

And over they go, and over they go,
And over the top of the hill
The good little sheep run quick and soft,
And the house upstairs is still.

And one slips over and one comes next,
The good little, gray little sheep!
I watch how the fire burns red and low,
And she says that I fall asleep.
~Josephine Daskam Bacon

A Prayer for a Little Home

God send us a little home,
To come back to, when we roam.

Low walls, and fluted tiles,
Wide windows, a view for miles.

Red firelight and deep chairs,
Small white beds upstairs-

Great talk in little nooks,
Dim colors, rows of books.

One picture on each wall,
Not many things at all.

God send us a little ground,
Tall trees standing round.

Homely flowers in brown sod.
Overhead, thy stars, O God!

God bless, when winds blow,
Our home, and all we know.
~Florence Bone

If All the World Were Apple-Pie

If all the world were apple-pie,
And all the sea were ink,
And all the trees were bread and cheese,
What would we have for drink?
~Mother Goose