Baby’s Shoes

O, Those little, those little blue shoes! Those shoes that no little feet use.     O the price were high     That those shoes would buy, Those little blue unused shoes! For they hold the small shape of feet That no more their mother’s eyes meet,     That, by God’s good will,     Years since, grew still, And ceased from their totter so sweet. And O, since that baby slept, So hushed, how the mother has kept,     With a tearful pleasure,     That little dear treasure, And o’er them thought and wept! For they mind her forevermore Of a patter along the floor;     And blue eyes she sees     Look up from her knees With the look that in life they wore. As they lie before her there, There babbles from chair to chair     A little sweet face     That ’s a gleam in the place, With its little gold curls of hair. Then O wonder not that her heart From all else would rather part     Than those tiny blue shoes     That no little feet use, And whose sight makes such fond tears start!