Broken Playthings on the Floor.
Copyright, 1885, by Wm. J. McVey.
God recalled the gift he sent us,
Little cherub, bright and fair;
Sunny ray that came and faded
In the gloom of grief and care.
Golden tresses, bright as amber,
Rosy cheeks we'll kiss no more,
Gone and left his little treasures,
Broken playthings on the floor.
Little blue eyes closed in slumber,
Ne'er on earth to open mere;
Fondly we will guard his treasures,
Broken playthings on the floor
Little lips that murmured mamma,
Still and silent now are they;
Tiny feet no longer patter-
Hushed forever 'neath the clay.
Oft we seem to see our darling
Smiling on us from the door;
Oft his joyous laughter echoes
From his playthings on the floor.-Chorus.
In the cot where baby slumbered,
With its pillow white as snow;
Now no golden tresses mingle
O'er a bright and sunny brow;
For the angels came and bore him
To that bright and golden shore,
Only leaving us to treasure
Broken playthings on the floor.-Chorus.