Life's Evening

The world to me is growing gray and old;
My friends are dropping one by one away;
Some live in far-off lands — some in the clay
Rest quietly, their mortal moments told.
My sire departed ere his locks were gray;
My mother wept, and soon beside him lay;
My elder kin have long since gone — and I
Am left — a leaf upon an autumn tree,
Among whose branches chilling breezes steal,
The sure precursors of the winter nigh;
And when my offspring at our altar kneel
To worship God, and sing our morning psalm,
Their rising stature whispers unto me
My life is gently waning to its evening calm.