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



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&mdash; 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 &quot;Baby!&quot; and Baby heard.