Poor Topsy, trying to be kind,
Has brought a bunch of garden flowers
To Eva, when she lies reclined
Through the bright summer's sultry hours.
For sickness hangs on Eva now,
She can no longer run or play,
Her cheek is pale, her voice is low,
And there she lies the livelong day.
Yet Eva does not fear to die,
She knows a better home remains
For her, beyond the great blue sky,
Where comes no sickness, tears, or pains.
[Illustration: TOPSY BRINGING FLOWERS TO EVA.
"Oh mother dear, let Topsy stay,"
Says Eva in her gentle mood,
"She brought such pretty flowers to-day,
Indeed she's trying to be good."]
For in her happier days of health
She read and prized her Bible true,
Above this poor world's pride or wealth,
And loved her blessed Saviour too.
And she like him was kind to all,
And pity on poor Topsy had,
Because the rest would scold and call
Her names, for being black and bad.
So Eva strove to make her good,
And told her, of all tales the best,
How Christ came down to shed his blood,
That sinners might be saved and blest.
Poor Topsy tried to understand--
None ever taught her so before--
And brought the sweet flowers in her hand,--
The negro girl could do no more.
But Eva's proud mamma comes in
With scornful look and frown severe,
She cries, "begone, you nasty thing!
In all the world what brings you here?"
"Oh mother dear, let Topsy stay,"
Says Eva in her gentle mood,
"She brought such pretty flowers to-day,
Indeed she's trying to be good."
"I'm going fast, where there will be
No difference, but in sins forgiven,
And mother it might chance that we
Would bring poor Topsy flowers in heaven."
[Illustration: DEATH OF EVA.
Oh, swift and sad were the tears that fell,
As her gifts among them passed,
And Tom, he got the first fair curl,
And Topsy got the last.]