Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1878-11-07
Old Age.

.
which few study to acquire perfection,
and yet how beautiful is age with the
grace and tenderness that properly
belong to the autumn and winter of
life. There is poetry that should
linger about and crown it with re-
spect, reverence and admir- alton. The
latter days should be set to quick,
pleasant music, and only soft, sweet
notes should ripple from the heart,
where it is yet spring. time with all its
cherished associations.
Old people deserve sunny niche
in the household their loving faces
should be framed in the memory,
dearer and clearer than the gems that
come from the artists brush which
called for our admiration. Their
deeds of mercy and lovingkindness, of
patience and endurance through trials,
of thoughtfulness for others aud SYM
patty in the hour of need, should he
printed on the heart in characters
that will never grow ilegible. If
their hearts have been full of kind HUI
mainly and sweet friendlness aud
generous acts, then the coming night
should be gemmed with the stars of
affection and devotion. Would they
drift back with the tide, we often ask?
Perhaps, if they could only redeem
the errors of youth, could only stem
the breakers more courageously and
nobly, and make of life richer poem.
If their lives all the way through have
been set TO the music of thoughts, no.
BILE aspirations and brave deeds, then
The blossoms of admiration and honor
should be laid daily at their feet by
kindly hands.
To the old, the rush of early memo
res comes back like the lost notes
Of song they ouce loved. They de-
light to live over the past; tor them
The meadow daisies grow again, the
yellow dandelions are plucked with
FEARLESS fingers, the running brook
murmurs no music sweeter than that
hey once knew in their hearts, and
he fragrant clover blossom breathes
only the perfume Of a vanished June
They carry with them always the po-
etry and sweetness of remembrances.
About those who grow old grace.
fully, there fingers forever the fresh
ness and tenderness of youth. The
silver hair wears "Time's gathered
SHOWS The foolish, baffied hopes
of mere worldly ambition fade away
before the Infinite longing for things
higher and holier, and to those upon
whom they depend there como verses
which never can be written, of SYM
patty with sorrow, resignation in af-
Fiction, cheerfulness in disappoint-
ment, and the sweet faith that helped
to overcome all obstacles. We Oft
times smile at their odd fancies, and
wonder why they cling SO closely to
little keepsakes and treasures of the
past; they may be but links on the
chain of Time, that carry them back
to more golden dawn.
Old age is full of study. 1t has
battled with life SO long, and grown
weary so often over its broken ambi.
tons, its repeated failures, its vain
hopes. They often forget the world
once held for them so many aspira
tons as they drift silently toward
that unknown shore the rapture of
that strange, beautiful song" of youth
seems only a dim reality, half forgotten.
The sunset hours of old age are
filed with CLEANS of fading pictures,
tinted with roseate clouds or shad.
owed with tears; but if it be a sea-
son of contentment, restful and cheer
tul, it always wears gracious color
ing, the dew of its influence rests up
on our hearts; and we insensibly
yield admiration, reverence and love
to the unconscious charm OF peace,
repose and serenity that crowns
beautiful old age, and gives it po-
etry grand and tenderly sweet.