Poems (Brown)/The little Boots

by Carrie L. Brown

THE LITTLE BOOTS. 

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Only two little boots by the fire so bright,
Only two little stockings to mend to-night;
The one who owns them is snug in bed,
Where the moonbeams dance on his curly head.

These little boots gave me trouble to-day,
Bringing in mud from out-door play;
Scattering pebbles over the floor,
Tracking dirt in at the great hall door.

These little boots gave me sorrow to-day,
Straying from mother's sight away;
Climbing trees, and wading streams,
Chasing shadows and sunny beams.

These little stockings, so worn and gray,
Have these tiny treasures caused trouble to-day?
Ah! indeed they have, in racing about,
In joining plays and merry shout.

Alas! I have had trouble to-day,
And yet would I give these treasures away?
Would I have the places empty to-night
Of the little boots with toes so bright?

Ah me! my very heart will break
If away from my sight these boots you take;
My home would be dreary, my young heart sad,
And there would be nothing to make me glad.

So there's only two little boots so bright,
Only two little stockings to mend to-night,
Only one little flower, so feeble and slight
Only one to smile with so silver a light.

There was a time when four were there,
When four little faces peeped over my chair;
Four pairs of boots, so shiny and bright,
And four pairs of stockings, so pure and white,

Hung near the fire, and chimney tall;
For the feet that wore them were dimpled and small.
But my children are gone, their spirits have fled,
And they are sleeping undisturbed with the dead.

I sadly miss those three loved ones
That are resting to-night in their silent tombs;
I miss their shouts and merry play,
For three little forms are not here to-day.