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The Four Gifts.

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A new-born babe was sleeping         Within its cradle fair,     And angel guards were keeping         Its peaceful slumbers there.     Gone was the age of fairies,         And of the elfins wild,     Who, hovering o'er the infant's couch,         Were wont to bless the child.     But in a distant city,         Fays that still glad the earth,     Four gentle little children,         Hailed with delight his birth.     Out spake the eldest sister,         "O, let us fairies play,     And give to our young brother         Some precious gift to-day.     "Sit down around the fireside,         And I my gift will tell."     And the little children sat them down         The fancy pleased them well.     Again thus spake the eldest,         "I 'll give him _beauty_ rare;     His eyes shall be as diamonds bright,         His brow like marble fair.     "He shall have golden ringlets,         His cheeks shall mock the rose;     And he shall be the loveliest         Where'er his light form goes."     The next replied, "Oh! sister,         Not such a gift is mine;     For beauty's charms, though lovely,         Must perish and decline.     "I'll give him _wit_ and _talents_;         In manhood he shall stand     Among the gifted and the wise,         That bless our native land."     "I'll give him _sweet good-temper_,"         Said the third loving child;     "He shall make glad our happy home         By actions kind and mild."     The youngest raised her wondering eyes,         And said, in accents low,     "I thought the gift I chose would be         The first that you 'd bestow.     "I'll give our little brother         _Obedience_ to-day,     And he shall mind, with cheerfulness,         All that our parents say."     Oh! blessed is the childish heart,         In life's first opening dawn,     For all its high and holy thoughts         From heavenly founts are drawn.     May our most valued blessings be         Obedience and love!     Our hearts, like that sweet sister's, full         Of teachings from above!

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"A new-born babe was sleeping..."

"The Four Gifts." is a quintessential example of H. P. Nichols's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

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