Page:All quiet along the Potomac and other poems.djvu/41

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But by and by, my woman-child,
 For tones you love to hear
Your name shall be a fairy boat
 To bear sweet loves-notes near.

And so it shall be soft and sweet,
 As wood-bird's matin shy;
So, sweet, I can't decide to-day—
 I'll find one by and by.

* * * *

Ice-cold, and like a waxen thing,
 The quiet sleeper lies,
With hands upfolded on its breast,
 And soul gone home to Paradise.

Its small life lived, its sheaf of tears
 Bound in a bundle small,
It folded thus its waxen hands
 At some Almighty call.

Our list'ning ear no accents caught
 No name like earth-born word
But still methinks an angel called
 "Baby!" and Baby heard.