[Illustration]

To grieve and to wound it, and hide from blue eves
The still deeper blue of the beautiful skies;
And how many times, just for comfort and rest,
The young head is lain upon mother's dear breast!

And tho' she's no longer the "baby," yet see,
The mother's arms clasp her all pityingly,
And turning once more to the "lullaby--O!"
She sings to her girl all so sweetly and low,

The nursery melody known the world o'er,
As she soothes, pets and comforts the young heart so sore.
Yes, Grandma is only a young girl to-night,
As she muses alone in the dim firelight.

* * * * *

The picture has changed, Grandma now is a bride,
The choice of her heart proudly stands at her side;
She is living again the sweet life of those days
When she first knew a husband's devotion and praise.

[Illustration: Grandma now is a bride]

To the faded old cheek springs again the warm blush,
The old years are young with the spring-time's soft flush,
The dear, dim blue eyes borrow youth's ardent glow,
As fast thro' her brain old-time memories flow.