Monday, May 18, 2009



If length of days be thy portion, make it not thy expectation. Beckon not upon long life; think every day the last, and live always beyond thy account. He that so often surviveth his expectation lives many lives, and will scarce complain of the shortness of his days. Time past is gone like a shadow; make time to come present. Sir Thomas Browne.

A comfortable old age is the reward of a well-spent youth; therefore, instead of its introducing dismal and melancholy prospects of decay, it should give us hopes of eternal youth in a better world. B. Palmer.

As sailing into port is a happier thing than the voyage, so is age happier than youth ; that is, when the voyage from youth is made with Christ at the helm.

J. PulsforA.

Gray hairs seem to my fancy like the light of a soft moon, silvering over the evening of life. Richter.

An aged Christian, with the snow of time on his head, may remind us that those points of earth are whitest which are nearest heaven. E. H. Chapin.

Some one has said of a fine and honorable old age, that it was the childhood of immortality. Pindar.

There is nothing more disgraceful than that an old man should have nothing to produce, as a proof that he has lived long, except his years. Seneca.

Old men's lives are lengthened shadows; their evening sun falls coldly on the earth, but the shadows all point to the morning. Sichter.

"Why weep ye then for him, who, having won
The bounds of man's appointed years, at last,

Life's blessings all enjoyed, life's labors done,
Serenely to his final rest has passed,

While the soft memory of his virtues yet

Lingers like twilight hues when the bright sun is set ?


The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed,
Lets in new light through chinks that time has made.
Stronger by weakness, wiser, men become
As they draw near to their eternal home;
Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view
That stand upon the threshold of the new.

E. Waller.

The aged Christian stands upon the shore
Of time, a storehouse of experience,

Filled with the treasures of rich heavenly lore;
I love to sit and hear him draw from thence

Sweet recollections of his journey past,

A journey crowned with blessings to the last.

Mrs. St. Leon Loud.

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