They are so glad of a young companion,
They hail and bless me, these boys of mine,
And I whose pathway was dark and lonely
Have no more need of the sun to shine.
We'll walk in darkness, obscure, despised,
We'll mourn each other at prison gates.
These boys are splendid as mountain eagles,
But mountain eagles have eagle mates.
The girls who prattle of work and pleasure,
Of last week's picnic and this week's joys,
Of past and present, nor heed the future,
Are lagging comrades for dawnstruck boys.

More verses by Lesbia Harford