"What is the glory of age?" I said,
"A hoard of gold and a few dear friends?
When you've reached the day that you look ahead
And see the place where your journey ends,
When Time has robbed you of youthful might--
What is the secret of your delight?"
And an old man smiled as he answered me:
"The glory of age isn't gold or friends,
When we've reached the valley of Soon-To-Be
And note the place where our journey ends;
The glory of age, be it understood,
Is a boy out there who is making good.
"The greatest joy that can come to man
When his sight is dim and his hair is gray;
The greatest glory that God can plan
To cheer the lives of the old to-day,
When they share no more in the battle yell,
Is a boy out there who is doing well."
