THE OLD MAN'S MEDITATION
We're growing old, our eyes have not
The perfect sight of early years;
They're growing dim, we know it well,
Thank God they are not dimmed by tears.
The perfect sight of early years;
They're growing dim, we know it well,
Thank God they are not dimmed by tears.
Our ears no longer catch the sound
As once they did of lightest word,
And yet the gentle tones of love
Are even now distinctly heard.
As once they did of lightest word,
And yet the gentle tones of love
Are even now distinctly heard.
Our cheeks have not that healthful glow
Our hearts do not as wildly leap,
But oh, we have a sense of joy
As constant as 'tis calm and deep.
Our hearts do not as wildly leap,
But oh, we have a sense of joy
As constant as 'tis calm and deep.
We know our tread is not as firm
As when in youth of manhood's prime,
But wo are keeping step full well
With others in the march of time.
As when in youth of manhood's prime,
But wo are keeping step full well
With others in the march of time.
We're passing onward to a land
Where age will never dim the sight
And there, though lacking lustre now,
Our eyes will beam with heavenly light.
Where age will never dim the sight
And there, though lacking lustre now,
Our eyes will beam with heavenly light.
And softer, sweeter sounds by far
Will fall upon our quickened ear,
Than e'er in brightest moments we
Have heard or even fancied here.
Will fall upon our quickened ear,
Than e'er in brightest moments we
Have heard or even fancied here.
There blooming cheeks will never fade,
Our hearts will there beat light and free—
There gloomy sorrow never comes.
There sighs and tears will never be.
Our hearts will there beat light and free—
There gloomy sorrow never comes.
There sighs and tears will never be.
If trembling limbs and feeble steps
Will only bear us to that shore,
How joyfully we'll journey on
To dwell in bliss tor evermore.
Will only bear us to that shore,
How joyfully we'll journey on
To dwell in bliss tor evermore.