The grandsire turns wearily from his middle-aged, care-worn
son, to listen with infant laugh to the prattle of an infant grandchild.
It is the old who plant young trees; it is the old who are most saddened
by the autumn, and feel most delight in the returning spring." "Winter,"
says Richter, "which strips the leaves from around us, makes us see the
distant regions they formerly concealed; so does old age rob us of our
enjoyments, only to enlarge the prospect of eternity before us." Seneca
says that there is nothing more disgraceful than that an old man should
have nothing to produce as a proof that he has lived long except his
years. I love Longfellow's picture of
THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH,
the mighty man. It has been set to one of the best musical
accompaniments that I have ever heard. When the verses below are
reached, the key is changed to one where the sadness intensifies, until
the honest old heart hears the "mother's voice singing in Paradise:"
He goes on Sunday to the church;
And sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach,
He hears his daughter's voice,
Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.
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