Ye are better than all the ballads
That were ever sung or said;
For ye are living poems
And all the rest are dead."--Longfellow. 

"And Nature, the old nurse, took
The child upon her knee,
Saying: 'Here is a story-book
Thy Father has written for thee."--Longfellow. 

The Little New Year 

One cold morning Maurice awoke from his dreams and sat up in bed
and listened.  He thought he heard a knock at his window; but
though the moon was shining brightly, Jack Frost had been so
busily at work that Maurice could not see through the thickly
painted panes.  So he crept sleepily out of bed, and opened the
window, and whispered: "Who is there?"