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