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Whence have wafted the fleeting
years when I was young?
Far away have they flown.
But youth er're lives yet
Within this heart of mine.
Wrinkles
of face; ages hath slowed this body so
But within is youth's memories of how it was
And how it is yet still.
Life
and time wind back as the fallen cages of old nature wanes.
His paths we walk--
Not our own
His youth we claim--
It has not flown.
Ah, what love for Him does flow
As we so close to Him do grow,
Just as pleased would
we be
To be perfect as He.
@ 9/3/93
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