Do you remember, my sweet absent son,
How in the soft June days for ever done,
You loved the heavens so warm and clear and high,
And when I lifted you, soft came your cry —
"Put me 'way up, 'way up in the blue sky"?
I laughed and said I could not; set you down,
Your grey eyes wonder-filled beneath that crown
Of bright hair gladdening me as you raced by.
Another Father now, more strong than I,
Has borne you voiceless to your dear blue sky.