كلمات Little Joe

What will the birds do, Mother, in the spring Will they gather crumbs around my door Will they fly from the trees, tap upon my window And ask why Joe wanders out no more And what will the kitten do, Mother, all alone Will he stop from his prowling for a day Will he lay on the rug by the side of my bed As he did before I went away And what will Thomas the old gardner say When you ask him for flowers for me Will he give you a rose he has tended with care First fairest bloom from the tree I could see the teardrops forming in his honest old eyes He said it was the wind that brought them there As he gazed on my cheeks growing paler each day His hands trembling o'er my hair Keep Tyge, Mother, my poor little dog I know he will mourn for me too Keep him though old and useless he grows Sleeping the whole summer through Show him my coat, Mother, so he won't forget His master who then will be dead Speak to him often and kindly of Joe And pat him on his brown shaggy head And you dearest, Mother, may miss me for a while But in heaven no larger I'll grow And any kind angel well know at the gate When you ask for your darling little Joe