LITTLE BOY BLUE.
Copyright, 1883. by T. B. Harms & Co.
I heard a mother singing to her babe upon her knee,
An old familiar childish strain, that had been sung to me;
It brought to mind my mother, she long has passed away,
I think I hear her tender words, as softly she would say:
Little boy blue, come blow your horn,
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn,
Where's the little boy that tends the sheep?
He's under the haystack fast asleep!
Go wake him, go wake him! no, not I,
For if I do he will surely cry!
My dear, my gentle mother, I look back to her with love,
And think of all the lessons taught by one who's now above;
And of times when temptation assails me on my way,
I can resist them for I think I hear my mother say:-Chorus.