Don't Make the Wrinkles Deeper
Is FATHER'S eyesight growing dim,
His form a little lower?
Is mother's hair a little gray,
Her step a little slower?
Is life's hill growing hard to climb?
Make not their pathway steeper;
Smooth out the furrows of their brows,
O, do not make them deeper. There's nothing makes a face so young
As joy, youth's airiest token;
And nothing makes a face grow old
Like hearts that have been broken.
Take heed lest deeds of thine should make
Thy mother be a weeper;
Stamp peace upon a father's brow,
Don't make the wrinkles deeper. In doubtful pathways do not go,
Be tempted not to wander;
Grieve not the hearts that love you so,
But make their love grow fonder.
Much have thy parents borne for thee,
Be now their tender keeper;
And let them lean upon thy love,
Don't make the wrinkles deeper. Be lavish with thy loving deeds,
Be patient, true and tender;
And make the path that ageward leads,
Aglow with earthly splendor.
Some day thy dear ones, stricken low,
Must yield to death, the reaper;
And you will then be glad to know
You made no wrinkles deeper.
—Anon.