Show DRIVING HOME THE Kate P. Dut of the clover and blue-eyed He turned them into the One after another he let them pass Then fastened the meadow bars I the willows and over the He patiently followed their sober merry whistle for onee was Irhe And something shadowed the sunny a and his father had m said He never could let his youngest already were lying dead lUnder the feet of the trampling I after the evening work was I I And the frogs were loud in the A meadow Over his shoulder he slung his And stealthily followed the footpath Across the clover and through the resolute heart and purpose Though cold was the dew on his hurrying And the blind hats flitting startled Thrice since then had the lanes been And the orchards sweet with apple-bloom And when the cows came back at The feeble father drove them For news had come to the lonely farm That three were lying where two had lain And the old man's tremulous palsied arm Could never lean on a son's The summer day grew and He went for the cows when the work was done But down the as he the He saw them one by and Shaking their horns in the evening Cropping the buttercups out of the grass But who was it following close Loosely swung in the idle air The empty sleeve of army And worn and from the crisping Looked out a face that the father For Southern prisons will sometimes And yield their dead unto life again And the day that comes with a cloudy dawn In golden at last may The great tears sprang to their meeting For the heart must speak when the are And under the silent evening skies Together they followed the cattle i |