When life is worn and age has stooped the frame,
Men gaze upon the earth with tempered eyes
And see their lives as candles spent in flame,
Or lost in chase of faithless butterflies.
Oh, could the world reclaim that youthful lore ,
When every pulse beat sang in sweet delight—
When hope was wine, and courage knew no shore,
And dawn the torch to rout both death and night.
True wisdom hails from foresight steeped in years—
That dread great leveler of all mortal dreams,
Whose Midas touch redeems our grief and fears,
And burnishes the past till gold fair gleams.
So life exalts where time and fortune meet—
‘Twixt fear of Hell and hope of Heaven sweet.

©Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.