The Passing Years January 1948

The years seem shorter

                   the dark nights longer,

Dear friends are passing

                   along the way;

Life seems stranger as

                    love grows stronger

For those who linger near

                    the ending day.

A tear falls quickly and

                    joy comes slower,

Desire for adventure becomes

                   much more rare;

The tide of courage seems

                   a little lower

And burdens a little

                   harder to bear.

That the world needs

                   love seems a little surer,

And bleeding hearts must

                   stand the test

That friends are passing

                   dear friends are fewer--

That love means most

                   as our sun sinks west--

Friends clasp my hands

                   as we stroll together,

Speak kindest words

                   in low sweet tone,

For the world needs love

                   no matter whether

We pass together--

                   or go alone.

                                                       V.C.