THE THREADS OF LIFE.
I count my age by what I’ve doneAnd not by months, and years.I count from smiles, and happiness,And not from pain, and tears.By these I’ve lived an hundred years,May live an hundred more.I’ll count the sunbeams in my life,The clouds I will ignore.I’ll count the good that I have done.Alas! That will not do.If by that standard I should count,My years would be too few.Turn back O wheel of Time I pray—Another chance I crave.I would more worthy be of life,More worthy of the grave.But I have failed through thoughtlessness,Through ignorance also;But thoughtlessness and ignoranceExcuse me not, I know.I must pick up the threads of life,And weave them o’er again,For every stitch I’ve dropped in past,Has left on soul a stain.Life’s shuttle I must hold with care,Life’s web must perfect be.I weave not for this world alone,But for eternity.
I count my age by what I’ve doneAnd not by months, and years.I count from smiles, and happiness,And not from pain, and tears.By these I’ve lived an hundred years,May live an hundred more.I’ll count the sunbeams in my life,The clouds I will ignore.I’ll count the good that I have done.Alas! That will not do.If by that standard I should count,My years would be too few.Turn back O wheel of Time I pray—Another chance I crave.I would more worthy be of life,More worthy of the grave.But I have failed through thoughtlessness,Through ignorance also;But thoughtlessness and ignoranceExcuse me not, I know.I must pick up the threads of life,And weave them o’er again,For every stitch I’ve dropped in past,Has left on soul a stain.Life’s shuttle I must hold with care,Life’s web must perfect be.I weave not for this world alone,But for eternity.