Classic Poem

Dear Brother, how the time speeds on
And leaves its trace upon our forms;
The days of sunny youth are gone
And age unfits us for the storms
That gather oft for you and me--
To-morrow you'll be fifty-three.

It seems but yesterday since youth
Was all aglow within our hearts,
But still we recognized the truth,
Old age has pierced us with his darts
Until from pains we are not free--
To-morrow you'll be fifty-three.

Long years of toil and anxious care
Have left their records all too plain;
The failing eye, the snowy hair,
The limbs and body racked with pain,
Tell tales that all the world can see--
To-morrow you'll be fifty-three.

Still on life's battlefield we'll fight
And win such victories as we may,
Believing still that right is might
And faithful hearts shall win the day;
Then let us shout and sing with glee--
To-morrow you'll be fifty-three.

And when a few more days are past
And we are bowed with years and care,
The cheerful sunshine still may last
To make declining years more fair;
Ah! much I hope that this may be--
To-morrow you'll be fifty-three.

'Tis sweet to think of boyhood's days
And all the happiness they gave,
To summon back life's earliest plays
And call lost childhood from its grave;
Thus memory gives us victory--
To-morrow you'll be fifty-three.

Since manhood's form was given me
Until this hour, our ways have been
In different lines of industry,
And scarce have we each other seen;
Your birthday's held in memory--
To-morrow you'll be fifty-three.