The Beauty of Age

Welcome this festive scene!—this glad arrayOf smiling faces gathered here!These friends who join to celebrate the dayWe deem the happiest of the year!The day so fraught with good—so bless'd of heavenAnd bless'd by thankful hearts on earth—For seventy years and eight the brightest given,The day that saw our father's birth!

A stately tree he seems, that towers high,Its boughs with fruit all richly laden,While spring-time blossoms, such as you and I,(To her little sister,)Its topmost branches crown and gladden!Ah! many blasts—ah! many tempests loud,Have battled round his noble head,And shook the limbs—(the trunk they never bowed—)And desolation round them spread!

With every storm the tree but higher sprang,As nearer heaven it strove to rise,While birds of hope amid its foliage sangTheir cheerful anthems to the skies.Well pleased, the Lord of the great vineyard sawThat tree obedient to his will,And bade his angels guard it evermoreFrom gales too rude, from every ill!

And when for many years its boughs have flungProtecting shade, a refuge sweet,O'er hundreds of the loved ones, old and young,Who fondly gather round its feet;While every heart with grateful love expands,Thanksgivings from all voices rise,He'll bid his angel host, with gentlest hands,Transplant that tree to paradise!

Far distant be that hour! O'er this rejoice!Devoted wife and children dear!And friends and kindred, all, with blended voice,Call blessings on his opening year!Let sorrow, cares, be all forgot to-night,In honor of this natal day;With cloudless hearts and brows let all unite,And homage to our father pay!