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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AT EIGHTY YEARS by RAY CLARKE ROSE

First Line: AT EIGHTY YEARS THE SUN OF LIFE HANGS LOW
Last Line: THEN DEATH TO HALLOW ALL, AT EIGHTY YEARS.
Subject(s): DEATH; LIFE; OLD AGE; DEAD, THE;
At eighty years the sun of life hangs low,
An even-song croons slowly in the heart;
No more the footsteps seek the noisy mart;
No more the brave arm strikes an ardent blow
In sturdy toil, but in the afterglow
Of time and chance Old Age, serene, apart
From all ambition's crucifying art,
Waits, dreaming, for the dawn across the snow.
At eighty years! What mysteries of strife
And strength, of service done, those years enfold;
Of unbelief made faith, of joy and tears,
Desires wrecked, or wrought to crown the life!
At last the calm; a loved one's hand to hold—
Then death to hallow all, at eighty years.



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