POETRY.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2609, 17 August 1882, Page 4

POETRY.

KISSED HIS MOTHER. She sat on the porch iu the sunshine, As I went down the street— A woman whose hair was silver, But whose face was blossom sweet, Making me think of a garden Where, in spite of frost and snow, Of black November weather, Late fragrant lilies blow. I beard a footstep behind me And the sound of a merry laugh, And I knew the heart it came from Would be like a comforting staff In the time and the hour of trouble. Hopeful and bre.ro and strong ; One of the hearts to lean on When we think that things go wrong. I turned the click of the gata-latoh And met his manly look ; A face like his gives pleasure, Like the page of a pleasant book. It told of a steadfast purpose, Of a bravo and daring will,— A face with a proxise in it That God grant the years fulfil. He went up the pathway singing ; I saw the woman’s eyes Grow bright with wordless welcome, As sunshine warms the skies. ** Back again, sweetheart, mother," He cried, and bent to kiss The loving face that was lifted For what some mothers miss. That boy will do to depend on, I hold that this is true, — From lads in 1 .ve with their mothers Our bravest heroes grow, Earth’s grandest hearts have been loving hearts, Since time and earth began ! And the boy who kissed hi* mother Is every inch a man ! —“Youth's Companion,”