And looking down they saw with awe and wonder.
Imps all as black as soot;
Each had two horns and each a tail to play with,
And hoof, instead of foot.
They heard the rustle of the angel feathers,
They felt the cool sweet air,
And, lifting up their little coal-black faces,
They saw Heaven's children there.
Then with one voice they cried: "Oh! angel Children,
You look so good and fair,
We pray you, let us come up into Heaven
And play a little there.
"We will not tweak nor pull your shining feathers,
But be so very good;
We will not try and steal your little halos,
But all do as we should."
Then quick they flew away for Jacob's ladder,
(Peter was still asleep),
And placed it safely, where from Heaven to Imp-land
The way was dark and steep.
Then every little imp, with shouts and laughter,
Helped by an angel's hand,
Scrambled right over the great wooden paling,
And stood in Heaven's land.
They all, with air sedate and pious faces,
Discreetly walked around,
Their tails like trains upon their arms upholding,
And eyes upon the ground.
The little angels fluttered round in rapture,
And showed the lovely flowers,
And bade them listen to the thrilling voices
Of birds in Heaven's bowers.
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