To Mrs. Weigall <br /> <br />Into the stricken house who steals on quiet feet <br />And sudden brings the sunshine it used to wear? <br />Whose is the tender whisper that turns the bitter sweet? <br />Whose kiss is on your forehead, whose breath in your hair? <br /> <br />Who sits down beside you in the firelight glow? <br />Who leans on your shoulder like the boy of old? <br />Whose is the arm about you that you used to know, <br />Drawing the sting from your wound, your heart from cold? <br /> <br />Like the rustle of dead leaves in the autumn gloam <br />Running like little feet on a wind-swept road, <br />They are coming home so sweetly all the roads of home, <br />Very flesh of your flesh who belong to God. <br /> <br />The horse in the stable whinnies by the door, <br />The dog of a sudden is wild with delight. <br />Who is this he welcomes, long waited for? <br />Who smiles in the shadow, so dear, so bright? <br /> <br />Mercy of God, they are given, not taken away! <br />There's a face in the doorway, a foot on the floor. <br />They sit down beside us in the shadows grey, <br />Lay their heads on our breasts as oft before.<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/they-who-return/
