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Robert W Service - Eighty Not Out
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In the gay, gleamy morn I adore to go walking,
And oh what sweet people I meet on my way!
I hail them with joy for I love to be talking,
Although I have nothing important to say.
I cheer the old grannies whose needles are plying;
I watch the wee kiddies awhoop at their play:
When sunny the sky is, you`ll not be denying
The morning`s the bonniest bit of the day.
With hair that is silver the look should be smiling,
And lips that are ageful should surely be wise;
And so I go gaily with gentle beguiling,
Abidding for cheer in the bright of your eyes.
I look at the vines and the blossoms with loving;
I listen with glee to the thrush on the spray:
And so with a song in my heart I am proving
That life is more beautiful every day.

For I think that old age is the rapture of living,
And though I`ve had many a birthday of cheer,
Of all the delectable days of God`s giving,
The best of the bunch is my eightieth year.
So I will go gay in the beam of the morning
Another decade,—Oh I haven`t a doubt!
Adoring the world of the Lord`s glad adorning,
And sing to the glory of Ninety-not-Out.
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