Silver Threads - A poem by Joel Moody

Silver Threads.

TO MRS. JOHN FARNSWORTH, FORT SCOTT, KANSAS.
How sad the years do beckon back
Our thoughts along Life's beaten track;
And visions of the long ago
Float round us as they come and go,
And sacred memories linger there,
When silver threads come in the hair.

And sad the song old Ocean sings,
As homeward he our cargo brings,
To find our ships were tempest tossed,
And our fond hopes were sunk and lost,
And promised wealths were buried there,
When silver threads come in the hair.

And sad our souls are bowed in grief,
As we turn over, leaf by leaf,
The sacred book our lives have made,
To find therein less light than shade,
And long-lost hearts and faces fair,
When silver threads come in the hair.

Yet sweet it is for us to know,
That flowers do live beneath the snow;
And Winter always hath its Spring,
When flowers will bloom and birds will sing;
And souls we love will grow more fair,
When silver threads come in the hair.

^__Joel Moody.