St Nicholas [serial] . By Edith M. ABOUSCKA sits be-fore the fire,Upon a driving windsheap up thesnow,Her hut is snugand tight;The howling winds, they only makeBabousckas fire more bright! hears a knocking at the door, late — who can it be ?hastes to lift the wooden latch thought of fear has she);wind-blown candle in her handines out on strangers three. Their beards are white with age, and snow That in the darkness flies;Their floating locks are long and white, But kindly are the eyesThat sparkle underneath their brows, Like stars in frosty skies. : Babouscka, we have

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St Nicholas [serial] . By Edith M. ABOUSCKA sits be-fore the fire,Upon a driving windsheap up thesnow,Her hut is snugand tight;The howling winds, they only makeBabousckas fire more bright! hears a knocking at the door, late — who can it be ?hastes to lift the wooden latch thought of fear has she);wind-blown candle in her handines out on strangers three. Their beards are white with age, and snow That in the darkness flies;Their floating locks are long and white, But kindly are the eyesThat sparkle underneath their brows, Like stars in frosty skies. : Babouscka, we have come from far; We tarry but to say,A little Prince is born this night Who all the world shall join the search; come, go with us Who go these gifts to pay. Babouscka shivers at the door: I would I might beholdThe little Prince who shall be King;But ah, the night is cold,

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookidstnicholasserial251dodg