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Poem by Robert William Service
I sat her in her baby chair, And set upon its tray Her kewpie doll and teddy bear, But no, she would not play. Although they looked so wistfully Her favour to implore, She laughed at me with elfin glee And dashed them to the floor. I brought her lamb and circus clown, But it was just the same: With shrill of joy she threw them down As if it were a game. Maybe it was, for she would look To see where they were lain And act pathetic till I took Her toys to her again. To-day there's just an empty chair, And 'mid a mist of pain I'd give my life if she were there To toss her toys again. A tiny ghost is all I see, Who laughs the while I cry, And lifts her little hands with glee --Unto the sky.
Robert William Service
Robert William Service's other poems:
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