THE CHILDREN.
God sent the children, happy careless things,
Inconsequent as rabbits when they play
On some wild hillside at the close of day;
Sporting with every toy Dame Fortune brings.
Down the long corridor of memory rings
The echo of their laughter blythe and gay
As through the glen they take their random way
Glancing and darting like the swallow wings.
Our Belgian boys, Joseph and little Franz
And quiet-mannered Jean to take the lead;
Fairy-dog Jack; kind Hommy with his cans
Who gave his young life for his country’s need;
Cherubic Sydney full of shepherd plans
And Eileen ploughing with her painted steed.
