I look fondly on the days long ago
When I would run for miles in the country
When I wasn't worried about tomorrow
For today held my sole company
When I would stay up late
And dance in the dark
When I didn't understand fate
Or that life was an ark.
You begin small and fragile
You then become young and agile
You grow up to be big and strong
And learn that plenty of times you're wrong.
But you learn from you're mistakes,
And learn what life takes to make.
And when you get old . . .
You become the learned,
Rather than the learner.
The song,
Rather than the singer.
And the wise,
But yet the feebler.
When the silver crown,
Replaces the helmet of gold,
You lean to teach the young,
And to discipline the bold.
You help the crying mother,
You scourn the rebellious youngster.
You grow old and weary,
And often wish you were young.
But are glad you are enjoying,
Watching your grandchildren run.
You know they'll do fine,
Because you raised your son right,
And you know his wife and him are perfect for each other,
Because you taught him right,
And you loved his mother.
. . .
A