Just Folks

Memory

          I stood and watched him playing,
            A little lad of three,
          And back to me came straying
            The years that used to be;
          In him the boy was Maying
            Who once belonged to me.

          The selfsame brown his eyes were
            As those that once I knew;
          As glad and gay his cries were,
            He owned his laughter, too.
          His features, form and size were
            My baby's, through and through.

          His ears were those I'd sung to;
            His chubby little hands
          Were those that I had clung to;
            His hair in golden strands
          It seemed my heart was strung to
            By love's unbroken bands.

          With him I lived the old days
            That seem so far away;
          The beautiful and bold days
            When he was here to play;
          The sunny and the gold days
            Of that remembered May.

          I know not who he may be
            Nor where his home may be,
          But I shall every day be
            In hope again to see
          The image of the baby
            Who once belonged to me.