In the Baggage Coach Ahead.
On a dark and stormy night,
As the train rattled on,
All the passengers had gone to bed
Except one young man with a babe in his arms
Who sat with a bowed down head.
The innocent one began crying just then
As if it’s poor heart would break.
Make that child stop its noise,an angry man said,
For it’s keeping us all awake.
Put it out,said another,don’t keep it in here.
We have paid for our berths and want rest.
But never a word,said the man with the child,
As he fondled it close to his breast.
Where is its Mother? Go take it to her,
A lady then softly said.
I wish that I could,was the young man’s reply,
But she’s dead in the coach ahead.
As the train rolled onward,
A husband sat in tears,
Thinking of the happiness of just a few short years.
While baby’s face brings pictures
Of a cherished hope that’s dead,
But baby’s cries can’t waken her
In the baggage coach ahead.
Every eye filled with tears
As the story he told
Of a wife who was faithful and true,
And how he had saved up their earnings for years
Just to build them a home for two.
Then Heaven had sent them a sweet little babe
Their young happy lives to bless.
In tears he broke down when he mentioned her name
And in sorrow he told them the rest.
Every woman arose to assist with the child, -
There were Mothers and wives on the train.
And soon was the little one sleeping in peace
With no thou ht of sorrow or pain.
Next morning at the station he told all goodbye.
Bod bless you,he softly said.
And each had a story to tell in their homes
Of the baggage coach ahead.