| The Hidden Life |
Chapter 10 |
Page 8 |
This is a beautiful thought, with a suggestion which must commend itself to many devout people drawing toward old age. It does not imply a decade of idleness, or of selfish ease, but such a use of the life in its ripeness and richness of experience as shall shed upon the world the benignest influence and the holiest benediction.
“Old—we are growing old:
Going on through a beautiful road,
Finding earth a more blessed abode;
Nobler work by our hands to be wrought,
Freer paths for our hope and our thought;
Because of the beauty the years unfold,
We are cheerfully growing old.
Old—we are growing old:
Going up where the sunshine is clear;
Watching grander horizons appear
Out of clouds that enveloped our youth;
Standing firm on the mountains of truth;
Because of the glory the years unfold,
We are joyfully growing old.
Old—we are growing old:
Going into the gardens of rest
That glow through the gold of the west,
Where the rose and the amaranth blend,
And each path is the way to a friend;
Because of the peace that the years unfold,
We are thankfully growing old.”
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