Fanny Falks

The Little Drummer Boy

At the Prison Hospital, St. Louis

"Looking wishfully as if there was something still on his mind he said:
'My Mother was a good woman, too. She would treat a poor sick prisoner
kindly, and if she were with your son she would kiss him.'"

Lonely, dying among strangers,
All his heart turned towards the South;
Longing for his Mother's blessing,
For her kisses on his mouth.

For her arms once more to clasp him,
Her soft hand upon his head,
And the dear, old-time caresses,
Ere he slumbered with the dead.

Pleading, wistful eyes he turneth
To a gentle face anear.
Bending down with woman's pity,
His low, dying words to hear.

"Lady" said he,"At my Mother's
If one sick, a prisoner lay,
She would kindly watch beside him,
As you watch by me today."

"If your son, oh, she would soothe him,
And would kiss him -- she is good;"
Oh, the wishful glance upturned,
All his meaning understood!

Gently bent the lady, o'er him,
While his dying lips she prest,
"For your Mother's sake" she murmured --
Comforted, he sank to rest.

Rest, that folds the hands forever --
Sleep, no mother's tears can start,
Lo! two angels kissed him;
Heeding the wild cry of his heart!



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