SOMEBODY'S BABY'S DEAD.

A hearse all draped in mourning, With white plumes overhead, Bearing a little coffin— Somebody's baby's dead.

Upon the velvet cover Some hand has placed a wreath, White as the waxen features Of the baby that lies beneath.

Out in the graveyard making A rest for a shining head, Somebody's heart is breaking, Somebody's baby's dead.

Over a baby's coffin, Heaping a mound of clay, Somebody's hopes are buried In that little grave to-day.

Somebody's home is dreary, Somebody's sunshine fled, Somebody's sad and weary, Somebody's baby's dead.