And when I’m scared because it’s dark or lightens,
He takes me in his bed.
“Our pastor said, last Sunday, that Lord Jesus
Up in the heavenly host,
Our elder brother is. It made me love him
Like my dear Ned—a’most.”
The blue eyes closed. Perhaps the gentle sandman
Had touched the golden head;
For low it drooped. But smiles still curved the sweet lips;
He dreamed, perhaps, of “Ned.”