Are All The Children In

When I'm alone, I often think of an old house on the hill Of a big yard hedged in roses where we ran and played at will And when the night time brought us home, hushing our merry din Mother would look around and ask, "Are all the children in?" Well, it's been many a year now and the old house on the hill No longer has my mother's care and the yard is still so still But if I listen, I can hear it all, no matter how long it's been I seem to hear my mother, "Ask are all the children in?" And I wonder, when the curtain falls on that last earthly day When we say goodbye to all of this, to our pain and work and play When we step across the river where mother so long has been Will we hear ask her a final time, "Are all the children in?" [Unverified]