[10]

[10]

 

To-day and To-morrowToC

ToC

 

Little hands—what will you grasp

When you leave this nest, O?

Little arms—what will you clasp

Against that tender breast, O?

Cling to mother's finger, babe,

Throw sweet arms about me!

Here no noons may linger, babe,

Soon you'll love without me.

Little toes—where will you turn,

East or south or west, O?

Little feet—what sands that burn

Will you soon have pressed, O?

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