The Old Soldier

LEST the young soldiers be strange in heaven,

God bids the old soldier they all adored

Come to Him and wait for them, clean, new-shriven,

A happy doorkeeper in the House of the Lord.

Lest it abash them, the strange new splendour,

Lest it affright them, the new robes clean;

Here’s an old face, now, long-tried, and tender,

A word and a hand-clasp as they troop in.

“My boys,” he greets them: and heaven is homely,

He their great captain in days gone o’er;

Dear is the friend’s face, honest and comely,

Waiting to welcome them by the strange door.