The Lost Boy

Little Boy Careless has strewn his blocks From end to end of the nursery; He has broken the top of the gaudy box That held sliced animals--My, Ah Me! His wooden soldiers are seamed and scarred From battle with him, and his jumping-jack Is lodged half-way from a blow too hard, Nor all of my coaxing will get him back.

Little Boy Careless has split his drum And bent the tube of his screeching fife Till all of its martial airs are dumb, And the doll that squeaked has lost her life From a mallet blow on her waxen head, And none of her sister dolls knows or cares How the sawdust in her is strewn and spread From the bedroom door to the hall downstairs.

Little Boy Careless has gone away And Big Boy Hopeful has come to me, The toys that were scattered here yesterday Are stored up there in the nursery. The broken drum and the jumping-jack, The waxen doll in her crib alone, Nor Little Boy Careless will e’er come back To scatter the toys by his years outgrown.

And ah, but the heart of me aches and cries For the Little Boy Careless to come and play, The light of the dawn in his big, brown eyes, With the toys that are gathered and laid away. The Big Boy Hopeful will come to pine For the world out there and will yearn to go, But the Little Boy Careless was mine, all mine, And that is the reason I loved him so!