THE TRUANT
The wise years saw him go from them,Untaught by them, yet wise;He had but romped with the hoyden years,Unwitting how time flies;Whose laughter glooms to wistfulnessAt swift, undreamt good-byes.The wise, grave, patient mistressesOf his young manhood’s school,The wise, grave, patient years-to-be—He never knew their rule;And yet he marches by a man,A hero, and no fool!The wise years see him go from them,Untaught by them, yet wise;The lad who played where, yesterday,Girls’ kisses were the prize!They wonder whence his manhood came,So well he lives—and dies!R. R. Kirk, Pvt., G2, S.O.S.
The wise years saw him go from them,Untaught by them, yet wise;He had but romped with the hoyden years,Unwitting how time flies;Whose laughter glooms to wistfulnessAt swift, undreamt good-byes.The wise, grave, patient mistressesOf his young manhood’s school,The wise, grave, patient years-to-be—He never knew their rule;And yet he marches by a man,A hero, and no fool!The wise years see him go from them,Untaught by them, yet wise;The lad who played where, yesterday,Girls’ kisses were the prize!They wonder whence his manhood came,So well he lives—and dies!R. R. Kirk, Pvt., G2, S.O.S.
The wise years saw him go from them,Untaught by them, yet wise;He had but romped with the hoyden years,Unwitting how time flies;Whose laughter glooms to wistfulnessAt swift, undreamt good-byes.
The wise years saw him go from them,
Untaught by them, yet wise;
He had but romped with the hoyden years,
Unwitting how time flies;
Whose laughter glooms to wistfulness
At swift, undreamt good-byes.
The wise, grave, patient mistressesOf his young manhood’s school,The wise, grave, patient years-to-be—He never knew their rule;And yet he marches by a man,A hero, and no fool!
The wise, grave, patient mistresses
Of his young manhood’s school,
The wise, grave, patient years-to-be—
He never knew their rule;
And yet he marches by a man,
A hero, and no fool!
The wise years see him go from them,Untaught by them, yet wise;The lad who played where, yesterday,Girls’ kisses were the prize!They wonder whence his manhood came,So well he lives—and dies!R. R. Kirk, Pvt., G2, S.O.S.
The wise years see him go from them,
Untaught by them, yet wise;
The lad who played where, yesterday,
Girls’ kisses were the prize!
They wonder whence his manhood came,
So well he lives—and dies!
R. R. Kirk, Pvt., G2, S.O.S.