By Mrs. Ada Davis
We only learn the way to live
When life is Drawing to a close.
Friends are more dear,
And love more clear
And life is like an open rose.
That grows more fragrant as it fades,
And sheds its scent upon the air.
Life is so precious when we are old,
And every year more sweet and fair.
But Father time goes plodding on
And pauseth not, nor stays his feet,
To heed our cry:
Oh! Father time, please tarry now,
Life has grown sweet.
He even seems to hurry more,
When we poor mortals bid him stay.
He only shakes his old gray head,
And says, I promise but today.
Make much of it while morning sun shines on your path, to light the way.
For evening cometh on swift feet
And night will come to banish day.
Your hands cease to labor then,
And you must fold them on your breast.
Your day ends with the setting sun.
And now you go to find your rest.
Who can you blame, if at the close
Your castle crumbles on the stands,
And leave you with your broken dreams,
A blighted life and empty hands.
Life is so short and yet so sweet,
To all who live in quiet content.
Yes all too short to reach our goal,
If even one day is wrongly spent.
So at the close we vainly cry,
Oh! Father spare me yet a while
I’ve lately learned to be content.
At petty trials I now can smile
I long to live a few more years,
To do the things I should have done.
When life was in the morning hours,
My pathway lighted by the sun.
Now twilight looms a step away,
Our trembling lips can only pray.
From page 6 of The Eagle, Cherryville, N.C., Thursday, April 28, 1926
newspapers.digitalnc.org/lccn/sn93064797/1926-04-29/ed-1/seq-6/
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