Where are they?  Ah! dim in the dust lies the clover;
  The whippoorwill’s call has a sorrowful tone,
And the dove’s—­I have wept at it over and over;—­
  I want the glad luster
      Of youth, and the cluster
Of faces asleep where the bumblebees drone!

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

IT’S GOT TO BE

“When it’s got to be,”—­like! always say,
  As I notice the years whiz past,
And know each day is a yesterday,
  When we size it up, at last,—­
Same as I said when my boyhood went
  And I knowed we had to quit,—­
“It’s got to be, and it’s goin’ to be!”—­
  So I said “Good-by” to it.

It’s got to be, and it’s goin’ to be! 
  So at least I always try
To kind o’ say in a hearty way,—­
    “Well, it’s got to be.  Good-by!”

The time jes melts like a late, last snow,—­
  When it’s got to be, it melts! 
But I aim to keep a cheerful mind,
  Ef I can’t keep nothin’ else! 
I knowed, when I come to twenty-one,
  That I’d soon be twenty-two,—­
So I waved one hand at the soft young man,
  And I said, “Good-by to you!”

It’s got to be, and it’s goin’ to be! 
  So at least I always try
To kind o’ say, in a cheerful way,—­
    “Well, it’s got to be.—­Good-by!”

They kep’ a-goin’, the years and years,
  Yet still I smiled and smiled,—­
For I’d said “Good-by” to my single life,
  And I now had a wife and child: 
Mother and son and the father—­one,—­
  Till, last, on her bed of pain,
She jes’ smiled up, like she always done,—­
  And I said “Good-by” again.

It’s got to be, and it’s goin’ to be! 
  So at least I always try
To kind o’ say, in a humble way,—­
  “Well, it’s got to be.  Good-by!”

[Illustration]

And then my boy—­as he growed to be
  Almost a man in size,—­
Was more than a pride and joy to me,
  With his mother’s smilin’ eyes.—­
He gimme the slip, when the War broke out,
  And followed me.  And I
Never knowed till the first right’s end ... 
  I found him, and then, ...  “Good-by.”

It’s got to be, and it’s goin’ to be! 
  So at least I always try
To kind o’ say, in a patient way,
  “Well, it’s got to be.  Good-by!”

I have said, “Good-by!—­Good-by!—­Good-by!”
  With my very best good will,
All through life from the first,—­and I
  Am a cheerful old man still: 

But it’s got to end, and it’s goin’ to end! 
  And this is the thing I’ll do,—­
With my last breath I will laugh, O Death,
  And say “Good-by” to you!...

It’s got to be!  And again I say,—­
  When his old scythe circles high,
I’ll laugh—­of course, in the kindest way,—­
  As I say “Good-by!—­Good-by!”