ONE sweet morning little Willie,
Springing from his trundle-bed,
Bounded to the vine-wreathed window
And put out his sunny head.
It was in the joyous spring-time,
When the sky was soft and fair,
And the blue-bird and the robin
Warbled sweetly everywhere.
In the field the lambs were playing,
Where the babbling brook ran clear;
To and fro, in leafy tree-tops,
Squirrels frisked without a fear.
In his ear his baby-brother
Baby-wonders tried to speak,
And the kiss of a fond mother
Rested on his dimpled cheek.
Zephyrs from the fragrant lilacs
Fanned his little rosy face,
And the heart’s-ease, gemmed with dewdrops,
Smiled at him with gentle grace.
Gliding back with fairy footsteps,
Willie, dropping on his knees,
Softly prayed, “Dear God, I love you!
Make it always happy, please!”