JOHN GRAY, JUNIOR. 23!
Three times three the sunshine red Looked through the curtains o er its head, To ask how time with Baby sped
With John Gray, Junior.
Thrice softly glided past the shade Above a grave-rift, newly made, To whisper where its mother laid.
Poor John Gray, Junior !
And thrice three times a tutored step Had softly to the cradle crept To watch the stranger as he slept,
Wee John Gray, Junior.
There as he took the tiny fist Within his hand, and softly kissed Its palm, there rose a shapely mist
Round John Gray, Senior,
Of childhood bright, of school-days done, Of college honors fairly won, And by and by "John Gray and Son," Senior and Junior.
The while a pitying angel knew That ere the morning drank the dew Life had been lived its limits through
For John Gray, Junior.
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There were white roses everywhere, Sweet flower-odors faint and fair
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