At the Bars of Memory and Other Poems/Growing Old
GROWING OLD
A little nearer the setting sun;
A little nearer to God and man;
More ready to help the falt'ring one
Who struggles behind life's caravan.
A little more used to changing fate;
A little more tender of heart toward those
Who once were wont to condemn and hate.
Who once paid the kindest act with blows.
Loving to live and let others live;
A little nearer the golden rule;
More apt to refuse—more willing to give
A hand to the strugglers in life's hard school.
More willing to count the many joys
That are mine in this sun-blest day;
More ready to leave the strife and noise
To watch little children at their play.
Growing old! But if it please God
As the changing seasons onward roll.
Let me follow the trail so many have trod
With Youth and Hope and Love in my soul!