I asked a silver sage
With race nigh run:
'Tell me in old of age
Your wisdom won?'
Said he: 'From fret and strife
And vain vexation,
The all I've learned from life
Is-Resignation.'

I asked a Bard who thrummed
A harp clay-cold:
'How is your story summed
Now you are old?'
Though golden voice was his,
And fame had he,
He sighed: 'The finish is
-Futility.'

I'm old; I have no wealth
Toil to reward;
Yet for the boon of health
I thank the Lord.
While Beauty I can see,
To live is good;
And so life's crown to me
Is-Gratitude