The heart grows old,
The head grows gray,
And all doth run
To swift decay.
Sweet youth is gone,
The childhood's dream;
And man's chief glory
Passed its beam.
Earth's joy declines,
Like setting sun,
To the night of rest,
When all is done.
Is it rest to me?
Is it rest, my soul?
Is it rest to go alone,
Without control?
Without the hand of GOD,
Without the heart of love,
Without the work of CHRIST,
To bring above?
Up to the FATHER'S house,
Up where the Lamb is light,
Up where the angelic host
All praise invite.
Up where the throne of GOD
Sends forth the river bright,
The crystal stream of life,
'Midst love and light
T. M.