And turn it into night?

Well, be it so; I’ll now enjoy

Life’s blessings while I may,

And meet its changes as they come,

The footsteps of decay.

At seventy-six we might expect

Our life-lights to grow dim,

The slow-paced step and wasted form,

Though once erect and trim.

’Tis nature’s course; time’s withering blight

Will come on all below.

Be ready then for any change

Time bids us undergo.

Then when this earth is made anew

All clothed in living green,

Where blight, decay, and care-worn brows

Are never to be seen,

We all shall bloom immortal, fair,

In Eden beauty dressed,

To share all Heaven’s eternal joys,

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