And shudder at the thought of frost and snow.
Though all of us hate being called too old
And wonder where our path will ever go.
Though human beings are as frail as grass
And wonder when the Reaper will arrive
Though we may all astruggle as nights pass
And wonder if we wish to be alive.
Though we may make worse our final fate
Solutions are for God alone to give
Though we may shiver at the thoughts that wait
For darkest night where shadowed beings live.
Yet never should we give home to despair
But make of truth and love our lowly fare