---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Annie Pack Roberts
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 8
number: 7
published: 1905-05
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Annie Pack Roberts, "Somewhere," *Improvement Era* 8, no. 7 (May 1905): 506.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0807unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera0807unse
start_page: 506
end_page: 506
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1905-05)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0807unse
  publication_year: 1905
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1905, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# Somewhere

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—
      Dear little life that ne'er knew a cross,
        And eyes undimmed by a tear.
      Somewhere, safe in a beautiful home,
        Did our little one awake,
      When her untried soul through the great unknown
        Did it's heavenward passage take.
      We do not speak of the loved one gone
        As dead or lost,   —   no, no.
      Somewhere, to a beautiful home beyond
        She passed from the earth below.
      And an angel fair, with a mother's heart,
        Shall watch o'er her spirit sweet,
      Loving, cherishing, our innocent babe,
        And guarding the dear little feet.
      Then listen not to the doubting soul,
        That talks of a cruel God,
      And prates that the baby's sundered life
        Is closed 'neath the tear- wet sod;
      For somewhere, safe in a beautiful home,
        Our darling our coming waits,
      And mayhap for us a baby's hands
        Shall open the pearl-bound gates.
      Then we'll treasure the wee one gone, in our hearts,
        Once ours, she is ours for aye;
      The two worlds touch, and but veil of sense
        Hides the baby's form away.
      But it cannot wrest from the mother's heart
        The love that the baby brought,
      Or take from her life the blessing rare
        That the baby's coming wrought.
      Somewhere, safe in a mansion fair,
        Is the baby who left us here,
      Dear little life, so pure and white,
        And eyes undimmed by a tear.
      And the mother's heart is filled with hope,
                                         —
        As she thinks of her child, not dead,
      "Somewhere, dear, I shall have you again,
        For His angels guard thy bed!"
                                                 Annie Pack Roberts.