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Poem	Little All-Aloney's feet Pitter-patter in the hall, And his mother runs to meet And to kiss her toddling sweet, Ere perchance he fall. He is, oh, so weak and small! Yet what danger shall he fear When his mother hovereth near, And he hears her cheering call: "All-Aloney"? Little All-Aloney's face It is all aglow with glee, As around that romping-place At a terrifying pace Lungeth, plungeth he! And that hero seems to be All unconscious of our cheers - Only one dear voice he hears Calling reassuringly: "All-Aloney!" Though his legs bend with their load, Though his feet they seem so small That you cannot help forebode Some disastrous episode In that noisy hall, Neither threatening bump nor fall Little All-Aloney fears, But with sweet bravado steers Whither comes that cheery call: "All-Aloney!" Ah, that in the years to come, When he shares of Sorrow's store, - When his feet are chill and numb, When his cross is burdensome, And his heart is sore: Would that he could hear once more The gentle voice he used to hear - Divine with mother love and cheer - Calling from yonder spirit shore: "All, all alone!"
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