Emily Huntington Miller
Emily Huntington Miller Poems
Hang up the baby's stocking
Be sure you don't forget!
The dear little dimpled darling,
She never saw Christmas yet!
...
I know the song that the bluebird is singing,
Out in the apple-tree where he is swinging;
Brave little fellow, the skies may look dreary;
...
Meadows with yellow cowslips all aglow,
Glory of sunshine on the uplands bare,
And faint and far, with sweet elusive flow,
...
Tell the blessèd tidings, children of the King,
With your glad hosannas make the morning ring:
Songs of His salvation, nevermore should cease;
...
I
I love to hear the story
Which angel voices tell,
How once the King of glory
...
Oh realm of light! whose morning star
To Bethlehem's manger led the way,
Not yet upon our longing eyes
...
They say that the year is old and gray,
That his eyes are dim with sorrow;
But what care we, though he pass away?
...
Emily Huntington Miller Biography
Emily Huntington Miller, (October 22, 1833 – November 2, 1913) Author, Poet, Educator. Born in Brooklyn, Connecticut, graduated from Oberlin College, Ohio in 1857. Daughter of Methodist pastor Thomas Huntington. Married John E. Miller in 1860. Children, George A. Miller. Grandmother to Emily Huntington Miller Witherow. Great Grandmother to Robert Huntington Witherow. She edited (assisted) The Little Corporal a children’s magazine, Associate Editor of The Ladies Home Journal. Author of “Kirkwood series”, “Little Neighbors”, Captain Fritz”, “Fighting the enemy”, and “Highway and Hedges”.)
The Best Poem Of Emily Huntington Miller
Hang Up The Baby's Stocking
Hang up the baby's stocking
Be sure you don't forget!
The dear little dimpled darling,
She never saw Christmas yet!
But I've told her all about it,
And she opened her big blue eyes;
And I'm sure she understood it-
She looked so funny and wise.
Dear, what a tiny stocking!
It doesn't take much to hold
Such little pink toe's as baby's
Away from the frost and the cold
But then, for the baby's Christmas,
It will never do at all.
Why! Santa wouldn't be looking
For anything half so small.
I know what I will do for the baby.
I've thought of the very best plan.
I'll borrow a stocking of Grandma's,
The longest that ever I can
And you'll hang it by mine, dear mother,
Right here in the corner so!
And leave a letter to Santa,
And fasten it in the toe.
Write-this is the baby's stocking,
That hangs in the corner here.
You never have seen her, Santa,
For she only came this year
But she's just the blessed'st baby.
And now before you go,
Just cram her stocking with goodies,
From the top clean down to the toe!
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