LEST Heaven be thronged with grey-beards hoary, <br />God, who made boys for His delight, <br />Stoops in a day of grief and glory <br />And calls them in, in from the night. <br />When they come trooping from the war <br />Our skies have many a new gold star. <br /> <br />Heaven's thronged with gay and careless faces, <br />New-waked from dreams of dreadful things, <br />They walk in green and pleasant places <br />And by the crystal water-springs <br />Who dreamt of dying and the slain, <br />And the fierce thirst and the strong pain. <br /> <br />Dear boys! They shall be young for ever. <br />The Son of God was once a boy. <br />They run and leap by a clear river <br />And of their youth they have great joy. <br />God, who made boys so clean and good, <br />Smiles with the eyes of fatherhood. <br /> <br />Now Heaven is by the young invaded; <br />Their laughter's in the House of God. <br />Stainless and simple as He made it <br />God keeps the heart o' the boy unflawed. <br />The old wise Saints look on and smile, <br />They are so young and without guile. <br /> <br />Oh! if the sonless mothers, weeping, <br />And widowed girls could look inside <br />The glory that hath them in keeping <br />Who went to the Great War, and died, <br />They would rise and put their mourning off, <br />And say: 'Thank God, he has enough!'<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/flower-of-youth-2/
