144
AT HANS ANDERSEN'S FUNERAL.
Yes, all the children in all the world were there with their tears that day;
But the boy who loved him best,
Alone in a damp and lonesome place (not far from his grave) he lay—
And sadder than all the rest.
But the boy who loved him best,
Alone in a damp and lonesome place (not far from his grave) he lay—
And sadder than all the rest.
"Mother," he moaned, "never mind the king—why, what if the king is there?
Never mind your faded shawl:
The king may never see it; for the king will hardly care
To look at your clothes at all."
Never mind your faded shawl:
The king may never see it; for the king will hardly care
To look at your clothes at all."
So, close to his coffin she crouched, in the breath of the burial flowers,
And begged for a bud or a leaf:—
"If I cannot have one, O sirs, to take to that poor little room of ours,
My boy will die of his grief!"
And begged for a bud or a leaf:—
"If I cannot have one, O sirs, to take to that poor little room of ours,
My boy will die of his grief!"
My child, if the king was there, and I think he was (but then I forget),
Why, that was a little thing.
Why, that was a little thing.
