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Shoe Black.
by James McIntyreGent on sidewalk held out his foot
While boy in gutter brushed his boot,
But at this time, how sad, alas,
An unruly horse did o'er him pass.
The child for friends he sad did lack,
They said he was but a shoeblack,
Kind hearted man the poor child bore,
To a soft cot in back of store.
And brought from hospital ward
A skilful nurse the lad to guard,
She often listened for his breath,
As he was passing the vale of death.
But, poor child, once he ope'd his eyes,
And he looked round in great surprise,
Feebly he asked, heaving a sigh,
Where in the world now am I.
The tender nurse bent o'er his face,
And said, dear boy, you're in good place,
She asked his name, he said it was Tom,
And that for long he had no home.
And since his mother was stricken dead,
He had not once reposed in bed,
And while suffering child did rack,
He eagerly asked will mother come back.
The nurse she gently answered, no,
But, to your dear mother you can go,
In his last sleep he had a dream,
Shining up boots it was his theme.
He soon awoke and called out, mother,
I see you and little brother,
Christ, I know, has me forgiven,
For they are beckoning me to Heaven.