My Little Boy That Died

I.ook on lus pretty face just tbr one minute, 1 1 is liraided frock , his dainty, buttoned shoes, Mis tirm-shut hand, the favorite plaything in it And teil me, mothers, was't not hard to lose ' And miss him from my side - Mj little boy that died? How many another boy as der and charming, His lthcr's liope, his mother's one delight Slipt through strange sicknesses, all fear disarminl And livcs a long, long Ufa in parents' sightl- Mine was so short a pride ! And then, my poor boy died. I sce him rocking on his wooden charger; l har him pattering through the house all dnv ' 1 ratch his great blue tyes grow l:irKe and larer. I. stelling to stories, whether gmve or gay, Told at the brlght fireside- So dark now, since he died. Iïut vet. I often think my boy is living, . living as my other children ire; When good-night kisset I all round im eiving, 1 keep one for him though he Is so far. Can a mere grave divide Me from him though he died.' So, while I come and plant it o'er with daisies, (Nothing but childish daisies all year round,) Continually God's hand the curtain mises, Aud I can hear his merry voice's sound. And feel him at my side - My little boy that died.