Great Flowers, Great Prices
The woman was old and ragged and gray
The street was wet with a recent snow
She stood at the crossing and waited long,
Of human beings who passed her by
Down the street with laughter and shout,
Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Past the woman so old and gray
Nor offered a helping hand to her--
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
At last came one of the merry troop,
He paused beside her and whispered low,
Her aged hand on his strong young arm
He guided the trembling feet along,
Then back again to his friends he went,
'She's somebody's mother, boys, you know,
'And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
'If ever she's poor and old and gray,
And "somebody's mother" bowed low her head
Was, 'God be kind to the noble boy,
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