 | Not a Man, and Yet a Man |  |
TO BABY'S CANARY, ACCIDENTALLY KILLED.
Thou tiny cheer,
So welcome wast thou here,
Coming to our home with baby bright,
To make our hearts glad, and our burdens light;
We hoped that thou and he
Would merry playmates be.
So welcome wast thou here,
Coming to our home with baby bright,
To make our hearts glad, and our burdens light;
We hoped that thou and he
Would merry playmates be.
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Thy voice, sweet bird,
And baby's chirp we heard,
But only knew that both must happy be,
But how much happier were both, thought we,
If thou wast older grown,
And baby thee had known!
And baby's chirp we heard,
But only knew that both must happy be,
But how much happier were both, thought we,
If thou wast older grown,
And baby thee had known!
Now baby sweet,
Looks at thy little feet,
And holds thy fallen plume in his wee hands;
Thy mournful fate, it seems he understands.
Oh! we are sad to see
Him gaze at us—then thee!
Looks at thy little feet,
And holds thy fallen plume in his wee hands;
Thy mournful fate, it seems he understands.
Oh! we are sad to see
Him gaze at us—then thee!
| Not a Man, and Yet a Man | |