We seem to hear his ringing laugh,
And his bounding step at the door;
But, alas! there comes the sorrowful thought,—
We shall never hear them more!
We shall walk sometimes to his little grave,
In the pleasant summer hours;
We will speak his name in a softened voice,
And cover his grave with flowers;
We will think of him in his heavenly home,—
His heavenly home so fair;