  His little Blue Dress is hidden away From the eyes of the vulgar world,— And the dear little Shoes,—more precious are they Than silver or gold empearled— Jewels that lure like the stars above, Hidden from all but the eyes of love. I watched him oft with a mother's heart As he played with his dear little toys; But now he is gone, and I sit apart And muse of those vanished joys;— Dream of his eyes and his beautiful hair, And thrill with the love of a sweet despair. The gaze of the vulgar world today Would only my jewels abuse; And this is the reason I hid them away,— The little Blue Dress and the Shoes: And I pray that in death my eyes may caress The dear little Shoes and the little Blue Dress. |
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