Eighty Years and More.

White Ribbon, Volume 12, Issue 140, 15 January 1907, Page 5

Eighty Years and More.

“ ’Tis yet high day; thy staff resume, And fight fresh battles for the truth ; For what is age hut youth's full bloom— A ii|M*r. more transcendent youth ! A weight of gold Is never old ; Streams broader grow as downward rolled At sivty-two life has begun ; At seventy-three begin once more ; Fly swifter as thou nearest the sun, Arivl brighter shine at eighty-four; At ninety-five Should’st thou arrive, Still wait on (tod, and work and thrive.” The false must fail, though from our shore, of time The old lament l*e heard—Great Pan is dead. That wail is Error’s, from her high place hurled ; This sharp recoil is evil undertrod ; Our time's unrest an angel sent of God. Troubling v% ith life the waters of the world Sands shift and waste : the rock alone remains Whittier “ Oh. lift your natures up. Embrace our aims, work out your freouom girls ' Knowledge is now no more a fountain seale 1, Drink deep until the habits of the slave, The sins of emptiness, gossip, and spite And slander die. Better not Ik* at all Than not Ih* noble.”