 | The Invisible Playmate |  |
FLOWERS INVISIBLE
She'd watched the rose-trees, how they grew
With green hands full of flowers;
Such flowers made their hands sweet, she knew
But tenderness made ours.
With green hands full of flowers;
Such flowers made their hands sweet, she knew
But tenderness made ours.
So now, o'er fevered brow and eyes
Two small cold palms she closes.
“Thanks, darling!” “Oh, mamma,” she cries
“Are my hands full of roses?”
Two small cold palms she closes.
“Thanks, darling!” “Oh, mamma,” she cries
“Are my hands full of roses?”
| The Invisible Playmate | |