| Show CP d M dm IT DOT lit the little boy whom you forget to play with when the drys are fair the child whose hopes are ar kinles s yet who kneels to lisp his evening prayer will soon eoon leave oft hta his childish ways and learn the things that men must learn why do y you u waste the precious days that never never can return you tou never lead him by the hand nor make his little joys your owal ambition sends you her ber command and he Is lett left to play alone he never climbs upon your knee delighted at the long days end to find that you have time to be ba ilia ond fond and sympathetic friend you never can afford to waste A precious hour amusing him the prizes alter after which you haste hasta are always tar far away and dim you must be ever pressing on forgetting while you strive and plan how soon his childhood will be ba gone how quickly he will bo be a man you never pause with him to hear the breeze that sings among the reeds reeda you have no time to give the dear sweet sympathy ym pathy for which he pleads you never v r rush with him in wild pursuit kursu of fairies through the glen yourself r ou ref again a careless ca relesa child freed reed from the cares that worry men ibave ve you no treasured memories apt f one who gladly played with you afore are you had been robbed ef cf ease nand a d when your cares were small email and fill III you rob him of the joy poking king back along the years at he has haa ceased to be a boy were butya call rings in his earst ears altho boy wh when en you forget borget them b with h when the days are fair whose thoughts are sinless yet law anwa lin to lisp his evening prayer 1 l oft off his childish ways V iha nril 1111 sit same somewhere whet e alone the prong ebous wasted days tor for the pat kat might have been your iube ause of I 1 it |
