Page:Poems Freston.djvu/125

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Many loves have come, as the years slipped by,
With jest and laughter and sometimes a sigh,
But what heart e'er thrilled at a kiss of mine,
As the touch of thy first-born son thrilled thine!
Ah, those memories sweet have the undertone
Of a sorrow's cry, and a spirit's moan!
For though in my heart thou shalt ever be,
To-morrow no mother will wait for me,

To hear all the news of the day's refrain,
To counsel, and comfort and save from pain;
To grieve in my grief, and to joy in my joy,
For years counted not, I was still thy "boy."
Age had long given his halo of snow,
And thy face was lined and thy step was slow,
But thy heart was young, with the spirit's youth,
And thy furrowed cheek was still bright with truth.

And if each kind deed that thy life has given,
Had plucked a star from the vault of heaven,
To illume thy soul on its homeward way,
'Twould be bright indeed, with each silvery ray.
For none came in sorrow or none in need,
Thou hast failed to comfort, or failed to feed;
And the poor shall bless when they hear thy name,
Though it ne'er shall shine in the halls of fame,