The Absent Ones
How I miss their faces!
Faces that I love.
Where I read the traces
Heart and soul approve.
Traces of their father
Scattered here and there;
Here a little gesture,
There a twist of hair.
Brave and generous Bertie,
Sweet and quiet Fred,
Tender-hearted Jackie,
Various, but true-bred.
How I miss their voices
Raised in laughter gay;
And in loving blessing
When they go to pray.
Even of their quarrels
Miss I now the noise,
Angry or disdainful,
(What are they but boys?)
Shouting in the garden,
Spurring on the game,
Calling a companion
By some favourite name.
How I miss the footsteps,
Lightsome, loud, or slow;
Telling by their echo
How the humours go.
Lagging when they’re lazy.
Running when they’re wild.
Leaping when they’re gladsome,
Walking when they’re mild.
Footsteps, voices, faces,
Where are ye to-night?
Father, keep my darlings
Ever in Thy sight.