A Golden Wedding

Down the vista of the yearsBright with joy, or dim with tears,Turning back our gaze,Not a shadow falls betweenYou and I in all that sceneOf life's checkered ways.Kindly by the Father led,Since the day that we were wedYears have fluttered by,Silently as leaves that fallBy the sunny garden wallWhen the roses die.

Los Angeles, 1887.