A SONG OF TENS

At the tenth birthday all the world looks fair;

The twentieth scarcely shades it with a care;

At the third decade life soars grand and high;

But with the fourth its heyday passes by.

The fifth comes on,— a century's half is told;

The sixth,— our little girl is growing old.

Another half-score milestone passed, and then

We've reached the allotted three-score years and ten.

Years may be added; should they come to thee

May Faith and Wisdom their companion be;

Hope thy sure anchor; Peace with thee abide,

And Love still be thy light at eventide.