The little toy dog is covered with dust,
but sturdy and staunch he stands.
The little toy soldier is covered with rust,
and his musket molds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new
and the soldier was passing fair.
And that was when our little boy blue
kissed them and put them there.
"No, don't you go till I come," he said,
"and don't you make any noise!"
And toddling off to his trundle bed,
he dreamt of the pretty toys.
But while he was sleeping, an angel's song
awakened our little boy blue.
Ah, the years are many, the years are long,
but the little toy friends are true.
So faithful to little boy blue they stand,
each in the same old place
awaiting the touch of a little hand, the smile of a little face.
But they wonder, as waiting the long years through,
in the dust of that little chair
what has become of our Little Boy Blue
since he kissed them, and put them there?
by Eugene Field (upon the death of his son)
complete verse contributed by Claire Bensing