| The little toy dog is covered with dust
|
| But sturdy and stanch he stands
|
| And the little toy soldier is red with rust
|
| And his musket moulds in his hands
|
| Time was when the little toy dog was new
|
| And the soldier was passing fair
|
| And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
|
| Kissed them and put them there
|
| «Now, don’t you go till I come,» he said
|
| «And don’t you make any noise!»
|
| So, toddling off to his trundle-bed
|
| He dreamt of the pretty toys
|
| And, as he was dreaming, an angel song
|
| Awakened our Little Boy Blue
|
| Oh! |
| the years are many, the years are long
|
| But the little toy friends are true
|
| Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand
|
| Each in the same old place
|
| Awaiting the touch of a little hand
|
| The smile of a little face
|
| And they wonder, as waiting the long years through
|
| In the dust of that little chair
|
| What has become of our Little Boy Blue
|
| Since he kissed them and put them there |