Growing Old

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D. C. · Nov 24, 1910

A LITTLE more tired at the close of day, A little less anxious to have our way, A little less ready to scold and blame, A little more care for a brother’s name; And so we are nearing the journey’s end, Where time and eternity meet and blend.

A little less care for bonds and gold, A little more zest in the days of old, A broader view and a saner mind, And a little more love for all mankind, A little more careful of what we say; And so we are passing a-down the way.

A little more love for the friends of youth, A little more zeal for established truth, A little more charity in our views, A little less thirst for the daily news; And so we are folding our tents away, And passing in silence at close of day.

A little more leisure to sit and dream, A little more real the things unseen, A little bit nearer those ahead, With visions of those long loved and dead; And so we are going where all must go, The place that the living may never know.

A little more laughter, a little more tears, And we shall have told our increasing years,— The book be closed, and the prayers be said, And we be a part of the countless dead. Thrice happy then if some soul can say, “I’m happy because he passed my way.”

— Selected.