LITTLE BOY BLUE

    By Eugene Field

The little toy dog is covered with dust,

But sturdy and staunch he stands;

And the little toy soldier is red with rust,

And the musket molds 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!

Aye! 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.

(This is the end of an old, old poem my mother taught me as a small child.  As an old man, I have added my own lines and God has made them a blessing to others as I have used them at many funerals.  May they bless you.)

 

 

Ah! His Daddy and Momma know, and find comfort and joy,

Though their hearts ache the many years through,

As they oft fondly look at each little toy,

And thank God for their Little Boy Blue;

For they know life on earth will soon all be o’er

And they know God’s promise is true,

With Jesus they’ll meet on Heaven’s blest shore

Together, forever, with Little Boy Blue.

Oh, Friend, let us triumph in our Lord everyday,

With loud voice, His praise let us sing,

For walking with Jesus each step of life’s way,

The grave has no victory and death has no sting!