An aged couple sit and view the scene.
Grandfather's ears the reveille have caught,
And thronging memories fill the camps of thought.
His heels strike on the floor, with measured beat,
As if to ease a tickling in his feet.
Year after year, for love of kith and kin.
Grandmother's hands have had to toil and spin;
But since the palsy all their cunning stole
Her mind is spinning raiment for the soul,
Of spotless white and beauty fit to wear,