Poem by Unknown — Are All The Children In

I think ofttimes as the night draws nigh

Of an old house on the hill,

Of a yard all wide and blossom-starred

Where children played at will.

And when the night at last came down,

Hushing the merry din,

Mother would look around and ask,

“Are all the children in?”

“Tis many and many a year since then,

And the old house on the hill

No longer echoes to childish feet,

And the year is still, so still.

But I see it all, as the shadows creep,

And though many the years have been

Since then, I can hear mother ask,

“Are all the children in?”

I wonder when the shadows fall

On that last short, earthly day,

When we say good-bye to the world outside,

All tired with our childish play,

When we step out into that Other Land

Where mother so long has been,

Will we hear her ask, just as of old

“Are all the children in?”