His grim verdicts hurt you so,

At His Will we come and go—

Play the game!

[Pg 28]

[Pg 28]

WHEN THE YOUNG ARE GROWN

Once the house was lovely, but it's lonely here to-day,

For time has come an' stained its walls an' called the young away;

An' all that's left for mother an' for me till life is through

Is to sit an' tell each other what the children used to do.

We couldn't keep 'em always an' we knew it from the start;

We knew when they were babies that some day we'd have to part.

But the years go by so swiftly, an' the littlest one has flown,

An' there's only me an' mother now left here to live alone.

Oh, there's just one consolation, as we're sittin' here at night,

They've grown to men an' women, an' we brought 'em up all right;

We've watched 'em as we've loved 'em an' they're splendid, every one,

An' we feel the Lord won't blame us for the way our work was done.

  "When The Young Are Grown" From a painting by Robert E. Johnston. 

"When The Young Are Grown" From a painting by Robert E. Johnston.

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