Allie's Prayer

We listened—'t was a little foot,Placed lightly on the stairs;"What is it, darling?"—"I forgot—Forgot to say my prayers."The mother took the little hand,And kissed the meek, low brow,And watched the tiny, white-robed form,Close down beside her bow.Ah! pride-chilled hearts were beating near,World-darkened eyes were there;But every head was bowed to hearSweet Allie's baby prayer.

And I have knelt where holy wordsBy earnest lips were spoke;Have felt the burning gush of thoughtTheir eloquence awoke;Have listened when the pleader's voiceSank quivering to a sigh,And I have bowed my head and thought'T were beautiful to die;But never have I seen the aweWhose robes were folded there—Whose stainless fingers wove the threadsOf Allie's baby prayer.

It went away—that little foot—As lightly as it came;The sweet lips spoke a low "Good night,"And syllabled a name,And then a glimpse of sunny hairFlashed through the open door;We caught a glimpse of the white robeThe angel pleader wore.Then eye met eye, and souls bowed downIn deep contrition there;Stern hearts were melted by the breathOf Allie's baby prayer.