[Illustration: Music Sheet detail:
"Hush, my babe, lie still and slumber,
Holy angels guard thy bed;
Heavenly blessings without number
Gently fall upon thy head."]

And now the sweet music hath reached other ears;
The baby's young mother the lullaby hears,
And, beckoning _her_ mother, they presently stand
Within the dim doorway, and hand clasping hand--

They listen and smile--yet with tears in their eyes--
To the soft notes which out from the shadows arise
From the hearts that old Time with his years and his--
Could not rob of the sunshine of long, long ago

The clock is still ticking the moments away;
'Tis but a short time ere the old King must lay
His sceptre, his crown, and his burdens aside,
That the new King may come with the world to abide.

And still the old grandparents quietly sit,
Unmindful of moments, tho' fast they may flit
Towards the hour of midnight, till gently at last
Their daughter reminds them that "bedtime is past."

"Ay, daughter," says Grandma, "'tis late without doubt,
But father and I'll see this dear old year out;
It has been a kind year, fraught with peace from above,
And it brought us a dear great-grandbaby to love.