The Toy Cross.
My little boy at Christmas-tide
Made me a toy cross ;
Two sticks he did, in boyish pride,
With brazen nail emboss.
Ah me! how soon, on either side
His dying bed's true cross.
She and I were crucified,
Bemoaning our life-loss!
But He, whose arms in death spread wide
Upon the holy tree,
Were clasped about him when he died—
Clasped for eternity!