The Home Circle.
THE CHILD MUSICIAN He had played for his lordship's levee, He had played tor her ladyship’s whim, Till the poor little head grew weary, And the poor little brain would swim. And the face grew peaked and eerie, And the large eyes strange and bright, And they said, too late: “He is weary ; He shall rest for at least —to-night.” But at dawn when the birds were waking, As they watched in the silent room, With the sound of a strained cord breaking A something snapped in the gloom. 'Twas a string of his violoncello ; And they heard him stir in his bed. “ Make room for a tired little fellow, Kind Q-od,” was the last he said. —Austin Dobson,
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SOCR18980618.2.17
Bibliographic details
Southern Cross, Volume 7, Issue 10, 18 June 1898, Page 7
Word Count
122The Home Circle. Southern Cross, Volume 7, Issue 10, 18 June 1898, Page 7
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