Are All the Children In?
The darkness falls, the wind is high;
Dense black clouds fill the western sky;
The storm will soon begin.
The thunders roar, the lightnings flash,
I hear the great round rain-drops dash--
Are all the children in?
They're coming softly to my side;
Their forms within my arms I hide--
No other arms as sure.
The storm may rage with fury wild,
With trusting faith each little child
With mother feels secure.
But future days are drawing near--
They'll go from this warm shelter here,
Out in the world's wild din.
The rain will fall, the cold winds blow;
I'll sit alone and long to know,
Are all the children in.
Mrs. S.T. Perry
And so the letting go begins...