Lord, I am old; the life that was so sweet
Will soon be breathed out darkly at Thy feet;
No more for me the sudden joys, or tears,
The keen pursuits and longings of young years;
Life’s gloaming is about me calm, and still,
Here in the deepening shadow of the hill.
Lord, I am old; I see no form, or face,
Of any that began with me life’s race;
I step from out the serried ranks of time,
To see the runners in their eager prime
Rush past me, and I greet them with a cheer;
In vain,-they are too far away to hear.
The youths and maidens-all their life in flower-
Sit by the ingle where I coldly cower;
I, inly blessing them as thus they sit,
Love the fresh souls that are so fondly knit;
But from their eyes, if they should meet with mine,
No answering light is ever seen to shine.
I love to catch the children in their flight,
And take a toll of kisses, in despite
Their laughing struggles. Upward glancing eyes,
And saucy lips, and breathless curt replies,-
I love them all; but in what cold degree,
These laughing loves, can they in turn love me?
Lord, I am old; and, wearing to life’s goal,
Closed are the issues of my captive soul;
Dim eyes, dull ears, faint touch, and failing speech,-
A memory which too far out-spans the reach
Of any left to listen,-still and lone
I sit as in a monument of stone.
I hear my household name, and looking round,
I see another answer to the sound.
No wealth have I wherewith I may requite
The charities which make my burthen light;-
What hand still loves to linger clasped in mine?
What eye my thoughts unspoken would divine?
Lord, I am old; but, soul of love and ruth,
In Thee I find again my vanished youth;
For Thee I am a child,-more dear, may be,
Than when I lisped beside my mother’s knee.
To others worn and wasted, spent, and old,-
To Thee a lamb returning to the fold.
Oh, heart too young! Oh, soul too clear and deep!
Sleep for the weary flesh,-for thee no sleep.
God’s child-I keep my courses in His school,
Learn to life’s end, and feel how high his rule.
Lord, let my coward heart no more complain:
Like Thee, I love, and am not loved again?
(Emily Pfeiffer)
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