THE BOYS. 145
And sons are boys to her for ever, Change as they may to you and I.
To her no line comes sharply marking Whither or when their childhood went,
Nor when the eye-glance upward turning Levels, until tis downward bent.
Now by the window, still and sunny, Warmed by the rich October glow,
The dear old lady waits and watches Just as she waited years ago ;
For Lou and I are now her daughters ;
We married "those two country boys," In spite of all our sad forebodings
About their awkward ways and noise.
Lou springs up to meet a footfall ;
I list no more for coming feet ; Mother and I are waiting longer
For steps on Beulah s golden street.
But when she blesses Lou s beloved,
And seals it with a tender kiss, I know that loving words go upward
Words to another world than this.
Always she speaks in gentle fashion About "my boys;" she always will,
Though one is gray, and one has vanished Beyond the touch of time or ill.
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