What Will The Birds Do, Mother, In The Spring

Will They Gather The Crumbs Around Our Door

Will They Fly From The Nest To The Top Of The Tree

And Ask Why Joe Wanders Out No More



What Will The Kitten Do, Mother, All Alone

Will She Stray From Her Frolic For A Day

Will She Lie On The Rug Beside My Bed

Like She Did Before I Went Away



What Will Thomas, The Old Gardener Do

When You Ask Him For Flowers For Me

Will He Give You A Rose He Has Tended With Care

The Fairest One That Lies Around The Tree



I Saw The Tears Coming To His Honest Eyes

He Said It Was The Wind That Brought 'em There

As He Gazed On My Cheeks Growing Paler Each Day

His Hand Trembled Over My Hair



Keep Tag, Mother, My Little Dog

I Know That He'll Mourn For Me Too

Keep Him Though Blind And Older He Grows

To Sleep In The Whole Summer Through



Show Him My Coat, Mother, So He May Know

That His Master Then Will Be Dead

Speak To Him Kindly And Often Of Joe

And Pat Him On His Brown Shaggy Head



And You, Dearest Mother, Shall Miss Me For A While

But In Heaven I Shall No Larger Grow

And Any Kind Angel You Meet At The Gate

Can Take You To Your Darling Little Joe