Poems (Odom)/My Baby's Shoe

MY BABY'S SHOE.
A tiny shoe of shining bronze,
With rumpled, blue rosette;
The shape of baby's little toes
Imprinted in it yet.

A dainty, pretty little thing,
But dear—so dear to me;
In memory of a little girl
I never more may see.

A fair, sweet child, with golden hair
That waved about her brow,
And hung in floating, sunny curls
Upon her neck of snow.

A dimpled, rosy baby cheek
My lips have often pressed,
When close against my loving heart
It rested on my breast.

My one, sweet, precious baby girl,
With eyes of deepest blue—
The little feet are cold and still
That wore this pretty shoe.

The waxen hands are folded now,
No more to grasp my dress;
The childish lips that death had kissed
I never more shall press.

I lift my eyes to heaven, and feel
That she is happy there;
But tears fall on the little shoe
My baby used to wear.