And some are in the garret With a clout beneath their head, And some are on the cold hard earth, Whose mothers have no bread. O little men and women, Dear flowers yet unblown! O little kings and beggars Of the pageant yet unshown! Sleep soft and dream pale dreams now, To-morrow is your own.... Though some shall walk in darkness, And others in the light, Though some shall smile and others weep In the silence of the night, When Life has touched with many hues Your souls now clear and white: God save you, little children! [7] And make your eyes to see His finger pointing in the dark