232 MABEL S MISSION.
Around the waxen image there
Of John Gray, Junior.
The sun came, as he used to do,
His golden hair flung streaming through
The blind, to say a long "adieu"
To John Gray, Junior,
Then left the silent, shaded room For ever to its purple gloom, To gild the daisies on the tomb
Of John Gray, Junior.
Low all the airy castles lie, While tender hands lay softly by The garments made so carefully
For John Gray, Junior.
Now the small hand the father kissed For ever beckons through the mist That lies between yon world and this,
For John Gray, Senior.
��MABEL S MISSION.
FAR down in the shady old garden, Where shadows are gathered to die, On the myrtle, down-trodden, knelt Mabel, With face lifted up to the sky.
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