A Little Child Shall Lead Them

Only a little scrap of blue          Preserved with loving care,      But earth has not a brilliant hue          To me more bright and fair.      Strong drink, like a raging demon,          Laid on my heart his hand,      When my darling joined with others          The Loyal Legion * band.      But mystic angels called away          My loved and precious child,      And o'er life's dark and stormy way          Swept waves of anguish wild.      This badge of the Loyal Legion          We placed upon her breast,      As she lay in her little coffin          Taking her last sweet rest.      To wear that badge as a token          She earnestly did crave,      So we laid it on her bosom          To wear it in the grave.      Where sorrow would never reach her          Nor harsh words smite her ear;      Nor her eyes in death dimmed slumber          Would ever shed a tear.      "What means this badge?" said her father,          Whom we had tried to save;      Who said, when we told her story,          "Don't put it in the grave."      We took the badge from her bosom          And laid it on a chair;      And men by drink deluded          Knelt by that badge in prayer.      And vowed in that hour of sorrow          From drink they would abstain;      And this little badge became the wedge          Which broke their galling chain.      And lifted the gloomy shadows          That overspread my life,      And flooding my home with gladness,          Made me a happy wife.      And this is why this scrap of blue          Is precious in my sight;      It changed my sad and gloomy home          From darkness into light.