Drums and trumpets thrown aside,
Eyelids drooping, "arms at rest,"
Fast asleep on mother's breast.
Lo! this dimpled warrior dreams
Of far conquests that shall be
When a "grown-up man" is he.
And she dreams, who holds him close,
"I shall always keep him so,
Safely shielded from life's woe."
Dreamers both! but bide ye, Fate,
On the threshold of their door,
For a little moment more.
