Tommy’s Deathbed.But hush! the voice from the little bed,And the watchful mother bent her head.“Mammy, I know that I’m soon to dieAnd I want to wish them all good-bye.I shouldn’t like any here to say,‘He didn’t shake hands when he went away;He was glad to be off to his harp and wingsAnd couldn’t remember his poor old things.’In Heaven I never should feel contentIf I hadn’t been kind before I went;So let me take leave of them, great and small,Animals, people and toys and all.”So the word went forth, and in no great whileThe servants entered in solemn file—The stout old cook, and the housemaid, Rose,And the aproned boy, with his smutted nose.So each of the women, with streaming cheek,Bent over and kissed him and could not speak;But he said that they must not grieve and cry,For they’d meet again in the happy sky.’Twas longer and harder to deal with Jim—The child grew grave as he looked at him,For he thought to himself, “He bets and swears,And I hardly believe that he says his prayers.Oh, Jim, dear Jim, if you do such thingsYou’ll never be dressed in a harp and wings.”He talked to the boy as a father should,And begged him hard to be grave and good.The lad lounged out with a brazen airAnd whistled derisively down the stair.But they found him hid in the hole for coal,Sobbing and praying in grief of soul.Old “Rover” came next, sedate and good,And gazed at his master and understood;Then up we carried, in order due,“Maria,” the cat, and her kittens two.Proud purred the mother, and arched her back,And vaunted her kittens, one white, one black;And the sweet white kitten was good and still,But the black one played with his nightgown’s frill.He stroked them all with his poor weak hand.But he felt they could not understand.He smiled, however, and was not vext,And bade us bring him the rabbit next.He welcomed “Punch” with a loving smile,And hugged him close in his arms awhile;And we knew (for the dear child’s eyes grew dim)How grievous it was to part with him.His mother he bade, with tearful cheek,Give “Punch” his carrot three days a week,With lettuce-leaves on a cautious plan,And only just moisten his daily bran.Then next we brought to him, one by one,His drum and his trumpet, his sword and gun;And we lifted up for his fondling handHis good gray steed on the rocking-stand.Then close to his feet we placed a tray,And we set his armies in array;And his eyes were bright with fire and dewAs we propped him up for his last review.His ark came next, and pair by pair,Passed beasts of the earth and fowls of the air;He kissed good Japheth, and Ham, and Shem,And waved his hands to the rest of them.But we saw that his eyes had lost their fire,And his dear little voice began to tire;He lay quite still for a little while,With eyes half-closed and a peaceful smile.Then “Mammy,” he said, and never stirred,And his mother bent for the whispered word;“Give him his carrot each second day,”Our Tommy murmured, and passed away.
But hush! the voice from the little bed,And the watchful mother bent her head.“Mammy, I know that I’m soon to dieAnd I want to wish them all good-bye.I shouldn’t like any here to say,‘He didn’t shake hands when he went away;He was glad to be off to his harp and wingsAnd couldn’t remember his poor old things.’In Heaven I never should feel contentIf I hadn’t been kind before I went;So let me take leave of them, great and small,Animals, people and toys and all.”So the word went forth, and in no great whileThe servants entered in solemn file—The stout old cook, and the housemaid, Rose,And the aproned boy, with his smutted nose.So each of the women, with streaming cheek,Bent over and kissed him and could not speak;But he said that they must not grieve and cry,For they’d meet again in the happy sky.’Twas longer and harder to deal with Jim—The child grew grave as he looked at him,For he thought to himself, “He bets and swears,And I hardly believe that he says his prayers.Oh, Jim, dear Jim, if you do such thingsYou’ll never be dressed in a harp and wings.”He talked to the boy as a father should,And begged him hard to be grave and good.The lad lounged out with a brazen airAnd whistled derisively down the stair.But they found him hid in the hole for coal,Sobbing and praying in grief of soul.Old “Rover” came next, sedate and good,And gazed at his master and understood;Then up we carried, in order due,“Maria,” the cat, and her kittens two.Proud purred the mother, and arched her back,And vaunted her kittens, one white, one black;And the sweet white kitten was good and still,But the black one played with his nightgown’s frill.He stroked them all with his poor weak hand.But he felt they could not understand.He smiled, however, and was not vext,And bade us bring him the rabbit next.He welcomed “Punch” with a loving smile,And hugged him close in his arms awhile;And we knew (for the dear child’s eyes grew dim)How grievous it was to part with him.His mother he bade, with tearful cheek,Give “Punch” his carrot three days a week,With lettuce-leaves on a cautious plan,And only just moisten his daily bran.Then next we brought to him, one by one,His drum and his trumpet, his sword and gun;And we lifted up for his fondling handHis good gray steed on the rocking-stand.Then close to his feet we placed a tray,And we set his armies in array;And his eyes were bright with fire and dewAs we propped him up for his last review.His ark came next, and pair by pair,Passed beasts of the earth and fowls of the air;He kissed good Japheth, and Ham, and Shem,And waved his hands to the rest of them.But we saw that his eyes had lost their fire,And his dear little voice began to tire;He lay quite still for a little while,With eyes half-closed and a peaceful smile.Then “Mammy,” he said, and never stirred,And his mother bent for the whispered word;“Give him his carrot each second day,”Our Tommy murmured, and passed away.
But hush! the voice from the little bed,And the watchful mother bent her head.“Mammy, I know that I’m soon to dieAnd I want to wish them all good-bye.I shouldn’t like any here to say,‘He didn’t shake hands when he went away;He was glad to be off to his harp and wingsAnd couldn’t remember his poor old things.’In Heaven I never should feel contentIf I hadn’t been kind before I went;So let me take leave of them, great and small,Animals, people and toys and all.”So the word went forth, and in no great whileThe servants entered in solemn file—The stout old cook, and the housemaid, Rose,And the aproned boy, with his smutted nose.So each of the women, with streaming cheek,Bent over and kissed him and could not speak;But he said that they must not grieve and cry,For they’d meet again in the happy sky.’Twas longer and harder to deal with Jim—The child grew grave as he looked at him,For he thought to himself, “He bets and swears,And I hardly believe that he says his prayers.Oh, Jim, dear Jim, if you do such thingsYou’ll never be dressed in a harp and wings.”He talked to the boy as a father should,And begged him hard to be grave and good.The lad lounged out with a brazen airAnd whistled derisively down the stair.But they found him hid in the hole for coal,Sobbing and praying in grief of soul.Old “Rover” came next, sedate and good,And gazed at his master and understood;Then up we carried, in order due,“Maria,” the cat, and her kittens two.Proud purred the mother, and arched her back,And vaunted her kittens, one white, one black;And the sweet white kitten was good and still,But the black one played with his nightgown’s frill.He stroked them all with his poor weak hand.But he felt they could not understand.He smiled, however, and was not vext,And bade us bring him the rabbit next.He welcomed “Punch” with a loving smile,And hugged him close in his arms awhile;And we knew (for the dear child’s eyes grew dim)How grievous it was to part with him.His mother he bade, with tearful cheek,Give “Punch” his carrot three days a week,With lettuce-leaves on a cautious plan,And only just moisten his daily bran.Then next we brought to him, one by one,His drum and his trumpet, his sword and gun;And we lifted up for his fondling handHis good gray steed on the rocking-stand.Then close to his feet we placed a tray,And we set his armies in array;And his eyes were bright with fire and dewAs we propped him up for his last review.His ark came next, and pair by pair,Passed beasts of the earth and fowls of the air;He kissed good Japheth, and Ham, and Shem,And waved his hands to the rest of them.But we saw that his eyes had lost their fire,And his dear little voice began to tire;He lay quite still for a little while,With eyes half-closed and a peaceful smile.Then “Mammy,” he said, and never stirred,And his mother bent for the whispered word;“Give him his carrot each second day,”Our Tommy murmured, and passed away.
But hush! the voice from the little bed,
And the watchful mother bent her head.
“Mammy, I know that I’m soon to die
And I want to wish them all good-bye.
I shouldn’t like any here to say,‘He didn’t shake hands when he went away;He was glad to be off to his harp and wingsAnd couldn’t remember his poor old things.’
I shouldn’t like any here to say,
‘He didn’t shake hands when he went away;
He was glad to be off to his harp and wings
And couldn’t remember his poor old things.’
In Heaven I never should feel contentIf I hadn’t been kind before I went;So let me take leave of them, great and small,Animals, people and toys and all.”
In Heaven I never should feel content
If I hadn’t been kind before I went;
So let me take leave of them, great and small,
Animals, people and toys and all.”
So the word went forth, and in no great whileThe servants entered in solemn file—The stout old cook, and the housemaid, Rose,And the aproned boy, with his smutted nose.
So the word went forth, and in no great while
The servants entered in solemn file—
The stout old cook, and the housemaid, Rose,
And the aproned boy, with his smutted nose.
So each of the women, with streaming cheek,Bent over and kissed him and could not speak;But he said that they must not grieve and cry,For they’d meet again in the happy sky.
So each of the women, with streaming cheek,
Bent over and kissed him and could not speak;
But he said that they must not grieve and cry,
For they’d meet again in the happy sky.
’Twas longer and harder to deal with Jim—The child grew grave as he looked at him,For he thought to himself, “He bets and swears,And I hardly believe that he says his prayers.
’Twas longer and harder to deal with Jim—
The child grew grave as he looked at him,
For he thought to himself, “He bets and swears,
And I hardly believe that he says his prayers.
Oh, Jim, dear Jim, if you do such thingsYou’ll never be dressed in a harp and wings.”He talked to the boy as a father should,And begged him hard to be grave and good.
Oh, Jim, dear Jim, if you do such things
You’ll never be dressed in a harp and wings.”
He talked to the boy as a father should,
And begged him hard to be grave and good.
The lad lounged out with a brazen airAnd whistled derisively down the stair.But they found him hid in the hole for coal,Sobbing and praying in grief of soul.
The lad lounged out with a brazen air
And whistled derisively down the stair.
But they found him hid in the hole for coal,
Sobbing and praying in grief of soul.
Old “Rover” came next, sedate and good,And gazed at his master and understood;Then up we carried, in order due,“Maria,” the cat, and her kittens two.
Old “Rover” came next, sedate and good,
And gazed at his master and understood;
Then up we carried, in order due,
“Maria,” the cat, and her kittens two.
Proud purred the mother, and arched her back,And vaunted her kittens, one white, one black;And the sweet white kitten was good and still,But the black one played with his nightgown’s frill.
Proud purred the mother, and arched her back,
And vaunted her kittens, one white, one black;
And the sweet white kitten was good and still,
But the black one played with his nightgown’s frill.
He stroked them all with his poor weak hand.But he felt they could not understand.He smiled, however, and was not vext,And bade us bring him the rabbit next.
He stroked them all with his poor weak hand.
But he felt they could not understand.
He smiled, however, and was not vext,
And bade us bring him the rabbit next.
He welcomed “Punch” with a loving smile,And hugged him close in his arms awhile;And we knew (for the dear child’s eyes grew dim)How grievous it was to part with him.
He welcomed “Punch” with a loving smile,
And hugged him close in his arms awhile;
And we knew (for the dear child’s eyes grew dim)
How grievous it was to part with him.
His mother he bade, with tearful cheek,Give “Punch” his carrot three days a week,With lettuce-leaves on a cautious plan,And only just moisten his daily bran.
His mother he bade, with tearful cheek,
Give “Punch” his carrot three days a week,
With lettuce-leaves on a cautious plan,
And only just moisten his daily bran.
Then next we brought to him, one by one,His drum and his trumpet, his sword and gun;And we lifted up for his fondling handHis good gray steed on the rocking-stand.
Then next we brought to him, one by one,
His drum and his trumpet, his sword and gun;
And we lifted up for his fondling hand
His good gray steed on the rocking-stand.
Then close to his feet we placed a tray,And we set his armies in array;And his eyes were bright with fire and dewAs we propped him up for his last review.
Then close to his feet we placed a tray,
And we set his armies in array;
And his eyes were bright with fire and dew
As we propped him up for his last review.
His ark came next, and pair by pair,Passed beasts of the earth and fowls of the air;He kissed good Japheth, and Ham, and Shem,And waved his hands to the rest of them.
His ark came next, and pair by pair,
Passed beasts of the earth and fowls of the air;
He kissed good Japheth, and Ham, and Shem,
And waved his hands to the rest of them.
But we saw that his eyes had lost their fire,And his dear little voice began to tire;He lay quite still for a little while,With eyes half-closed and a peaceful smile.
But we saw that his eyes had lost their fire,
And his dear little voice began to tire;
He lay quite still for a little while,
With eyes half-closed and a peaceful smile.
Then “Mammy,” he said, and never stirred,And his mother bent for the whispered word;“Give him his carrot each second day,”Our Tommy murmured, and passed away.
Then “Mammy,” he said, and never stirred,
And his mother bent for the whispered word;
“Give him his carrot each second day,”
Our Tommy murmured, and passed away.