Page:Poems Chandler.djvu/125

One draught from the living waters
 Shall call back his manhood's prime;
And eternal years shall measure
 The love that outlasted time.

But the shapes that they left behind them,
 The wrinkles and silver hair,—
Made holy to us by the kisses
 The angel had printed there,—

We will hide away 'neath the willows
 When the day is low in the west,
Where the sunbeams cannot find them
 Nor the winds disturb their rest;

And we'll suffer no tell-tale tombstone,
 With its age and date, to rise
O'er the two who are old no longer
 In the Father's house in the skies.