He has passed the door, and adown the stair;
While those he has left to their leader turn
With downcast eyes, and cheeks that burn.
Silent he stands as his glass he takes,
When the guest of the evening the silence breaks.
“Friends of my boyhood, the old man’s prayer
Shall meet a response in the heart I wear.
I come to-night from a mother’s side:
She watches my life with a parent’s pride;
And I know ’tis the dearest wish of her heart,