The Little Ones
The little ones are put in bed,
And both are laughing, lying down;
Their father, and their mother too,
Are gone on Christmas Eve to town.
'Old Santa Claus will bring a horse,
Gee up:' cried little Will, with glee;
'If I am good, I'll have a doll
From Santa Claus' - laughed Emily.
The little ones are gone to sleep,
Their father and their mother now
Are coming home, with many more -
They're drunk, and make a merry row.
The little ones on Christmas morn
Jump up, like skylarks from the grass;
And then they stand as still as stones,
And just as cold as stones, Alas!
No horse, no doll beside their bed,
No sadder little ones could be;
'We did some wrong,' said little Will -
'We must have sinned,' sobbed Emily.