My Little Boy That Died
look on liis prctty face for just ono mlnnte, His braided f rock, his dmnty buttoned slioes lis ürin-sluit hand, the favorito plaything in it, And teil me, molhers, wasn't lianl to lose And miss hini from my sido- Hy little lioy thatdied? Uow many aiiolhcr boy as dear and rharming, His father's hope, his mother's onc delight, Slips throiign strangc sicknesses, all fear disarmiug, And lives a long. lons llfQ In parents1 elghtl Jlino was so sliort a pridel And tiicn my poor boy died. I sce Inm rocking on his wooilen charger; Ihearlllm jiattering through the house all day ; IWftton his grcut blue oyes gtow largc and largor, Llstenlng to stovies, -nhether grave or gay, Told at the bri.ïlit fireside- So dark now, since he dicd. Uut vet I olten tbink my boy is living, AS living tam; other children are, Wben good-liight kisses lal] around amgivins, I keep one for liim, thoiigh he is 60 far, Can a mere grave divido- Me lrom him, though he died ? So, ivhile I come and plant it o'er wltnflalite, (KothiHK but rhildishdaisies,allyearround)t Constanlly Cod'8 hand the curtain raises, And I can hear his mevry voice's souud Anti foei him at my 6iile- My little boy that died.
Ann Arbor Argus