  Each day we are grown older, Years swiftly pass away; And the world seems strangely colder, The heart itself less gay. The hopes that are brightly dawning, The joys that oft are ours, Shall vanish, in life’s fair morning, Like dew-drops on the flowers. Youth’s rosiest tints of splendor, Are fading fast from sight; And the trusting heart more tender, In patience waits the night. Like the athlete growing weary, No more we run the race; But near to the victors cheery We seek a resting-place. Just beyond the passing pleasure, And thought of added years, We can see Heaven’s greater treasure, Which satisfies and cheers. An eternal light is dawning, To penetrate the gloom; In life’s more radiant morning Peace waits beyond the tomb. |
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