MY little boy at Christmas-tide Made me a toy cross; Two sticks he did, in boyish pride, With brazen nail emboss. Ah me! how soon, on either side His dying bed's true cross, She and I were crucified, Bemoaning our life-loss! But He, whose arms in death spread wide Upon the holy tree, Were clasp'd about him when he died -- Clasp'd for eternity! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THURSDAY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS DEATH (1) by MAXWELL BODENHEIM THE OL' TUNES by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE CHOIR INVISIBLE by MARY ANN EVANS THE AIM WAS SONG by ROBERT FROST NEW ENGLAND'S DEAD! by ISAAC MCLELLAN JR. DOROTHY IN THE GARRET by JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE |