The Picture.
I have two young sisters, where are they?
Whose pictured likeness here we trace,
I know them lately, fair and gay,
Buoyant with health and youthful grace.
Their looks and needle-work are here,
Their drawings hang upon the wall,
The flowers they planted held most dear
Because the lost ones they recall.
Sweet infant orphans sometimes come
(Unconscious of their loss) to play
In their young mothers early home,
But those two sisters--where are they?