SOMEBODY'S BABY'S DEAD.

By Madge Morris Wagner

A hearse all draped in mourning,

With white plumes overhead,

Bearing a little coffin —

Somebody's baby's dead.

Upon the velvet cover

Some hand has placed a wreath,

White as the waxen features

Of the baby that lies beneath.

Out in the graveyard making

A rest for a shining head,

Somebody's heart is breaking,

Somebody's baby's dead.

Over a baby's coffin,

Heaping a mound of clay,

Somebody's hopes are buried

In that little grave to-day.

Somebody's home is dreary,

Somebody's sunshine fled,

Somebody's sad and weary,

Somebody's baby's dead.