Grandmother’s head is bending low
Over the dear little drowsy one.
The steps of her pathway are few to go;
The baby’s journey has just begun.
Yet the rosy dawn of his childish love
Brightens the evening that else were dim;
And in after years, from her home above,
The light of her blessing will rest on him.[[4]]
MOVING TABLEAUX.
[1]. Sitting-room with antique furniture. Old lady pacing across stage front, carrying baby in red night-dress.