 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
1538
LITTLE MARJORIE
“Where is little Marjorie?”
There's the robin in the tree,
With his gallant call once more
From the boughs above the door!
There's the bluebird's note, and there
Are spring-voices everywhere
Calling, calling ceaselessly—
“Where is little Marjorie?”
There's the robin in the tree,
With his gallant call once more
From the boughs above the door!
There's the bluebird's note, and there
Are spring-voices everywhere
Calling, calling ceaselessly—
“Where is little Marjorie?”
And her old playmate, the rain,
Calling at the window-pane
In soft syllables that win
Not her answer from within—
“Where is little Marjorie?”—
Or is it the rain, ah me!
Or wild gusts of tears that were
Calling us—not calling her!
Calling at the window-pane
In soft syllables that win
Not her answer from within—
“Where is little Marjorie?”—
Or is it the rain, ah me!
Or wild gusts of tears that were
Calling us—not calling her!
“Where is little Marjorie?”
Oh, in high security
She is hidden from the reach
Of all voices that beseech:
She is where no troubled word,
Sob or sigh is ever heard,
Since God whispered tenderly—
“Where is little Marjorie?”
Oh, in high security
She is hidden from the reach
Of all voices that beseech:
She is where no troubled word,
Sob or sigh is ever heard,
Since God whispered tenderly—
“Where is little Marjorie?”
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |