Jeez, Gene, I never ever thought I need that poem I memorized for my grandmother when I was 10 (along with Abou Ben Adam (may his tribe increase). Let me see if I can still remember it.

The little toy dog is covered with dust
but sturdy and staunch he stands,
the Little toy soldier with red with rust
and his musket molds in his hand.
Time was, when the little toy dog was new
And the soldier was passing fair,
And that was when our "little Boy Blue"
Kissed them and put them there.
"Now, don't you go 'til I come," he said,
"and don't you make any noise."
And he toddled off to his trundle bed
(What's a trundle bed, Mom? Shh, I'll tell you later)
To dream of his marvellous toys.
But during the night an angel came,
And awakened our 'Little Boy Blue"
Oh the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toys friends are true.
-------(missing line)---still they stand.

Each in his same old place,
Awaiting the touch of his little hand,
the smile of his little face.

Awright. That's what I can remember. Now I'll go in and get the 101 Famous Poems, and check it.
Blessings,
Barbara