You, probably, will never pad into my room, br to stand, heart-still, listening for breath, br or search my dream-gone face. br br br Amidst your worldly goods I stand, br imbibing of you both, br three adrift on seas of wonder. br And grateful I am, and pray br that down the days, I may, through you, br repay the kindnesses and courtesies, br that, forming me, formed you. br br br So not to me is owed br what you may both achieve. br For in boyish slumber br my breath rose as an answered prayer br to those who watched over me, br as now I watch over you.