The years have told their stories
   and now as the past we recall
   love it still is but so much more
   new life it breathes and all

   that's gone before  redoubles
    its light which so radiantly glows
   never mind our glaring wrinkles
   and weakening sinews- our love grows

   in the sunshine of time renewed
  which but ripens the harvest we gather
  from the field where we once did labour
  despite the tears shed we'll remember

   the joys shared and the burden
   we bore--and now we know in life's bower
   youth was but a seed, middle-age a struggling bud
   and old age the long-awaited glorious flower

   our sight might be dimmer
   but our eyes still hold to their lustre
   the touch of our hands is even more tender
   silence a sweeter language it does whisper

   this is the midnight hour and thickest of winter
   the flame in the fire-place it begins to waver
   the night is closing in and the waters are receding in the river
   I look into your eyes where such beauty and love still  warmly    glitter.