Op. 20, no. 3
Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time,
To see the old youth blaze so full of hope:
How cyclical life walks as rhythmic rhyme
Rolls off our tongues as song to help us cope.
For though the inner embers of thy strength
Have cooled to steam where once was blazing fire,
The lumber of thy mind still keeps its length
And built with it an altar to admire:
The ways of wisdom, rose from many years,
A life of hard work for posterity,
A bed of love, where which were laughs and tears,
Where came to start this blessed family.
In light of these foundations built so deep
Thy head deserved to rest in peaceful sleep.