Sunny Side of Seventy Poem - Christian Living

The sunny side of seventy!
    I've reached it long ago,
And now am nearing Eighty
    With hair as white as snow.
Eyes dim, joints stiff, back feeble.
    I seem in evil case,
To sing of sunny seventy,
    Seems somewhat out of place.

But is it? Pause and ponder
    What the Good Book hath said
Of righteousness and glory
    Crowning the hoary head.
Think of the rocks and quicksands
    Which I have safely passed,
By the Good Shepherd's guidance,
    Through many a roaring blast.
Now I am near the borders
    Of the bright shining land
Where blessed saints are waiting
    For me to join their band,—
For me and all believers,
    Cleansed in that wondrous flood
Which frees from all defilement,
    E'en Christ's most precious blood.

Does not that counterbalance
    The weakness of my frame!
Oh, how the thought of glory
    Doth set my heart on flame!
What though this mortal body,
    Poor tenement of clay,
'Neath death's dominion falling,
    Should perish and decay.
What matter! All is brightness,
    For thus proclaims the Word,
Absent from this poor body,
    Then present with the Lord.

How glorious are my prospects,
    Lo! to faith's piercing view
Lie realms of brightest glory,
    Scenes ever fair and new.
The pearly gates, the heavens
    Where the bright angels dwell,
Where shining saints, in myriads,
    God's praises ever tell;
Where all is joy and blessing,
    True happiness and peace;
Where death, pain, care and sorrow
    Forevermore shall cease;
Where Christ is heavenly glory,
    The Lamb of God divine,
God's Son, His well-beloved,
    Doth reign, —and Christ is mine!

Speak not of earthy glory,
    Of worldly wealth or fame;
The brightness of His presence
    Will put them all to shame.
E'en now, although my vision
    Be yet obscure and dim,
How fade their transient glories
    Whene'er I gaze on Him!
His wondrous self-surrender,
    His cross, His thorn-crowned brow
His loving heart, His patience,
    His agony and woe;
And now HIS THRONE OF GLORY,
     On which He sits supreme,
Ruling o'er powers and princedoms,
    Heaven's bright and blessed theme;
Thus God shows satisfaction
    For priceless labor done
On Calvary's cross of agony,
    By His beloved Son.

How trivial seem time's doings
    When these realities
Are by the Holy Spirits power
    Presented to our eyes;
Then let us thank the Saviour
    Who died upon the tree
Then we, made meet, might with Himself
    Spend our Eternity.
All we can see is transient,
    And soon will pass away;
Things unseen are eternal,
    And so will last for aye,
And so, my God, I praise Thee
    That thus far am I come,
For the Sunny Side of Seventy
    Has brought me well-nigh home.

Addendum.
Because Old Time untiring
    Hath borne me swift along,
The Sunny Side of Eighty
    Is now my joyous song;
Joyous in spite of weakness,
    Of labour and of sorrow,
Joyous when shines the passing day
    Or gloom's the coming morrow,
For know thou this, true happiness
    Is not a thing of earth;
Not on events doth it depend,
    Heaven is its place of birth.
Its true, its native home; for oh—
    Sound it through earth abroad!—
It has its blessed origin
    In the warm heart of God!

God's thoughts towards us are loving thoughts,
    God's actions ever tend
To humble us, to do us good
    When comes our latter end.
For God is Light and Love, let all
    Grasp firm that blessed truth.
Ponder it well, ye gray-haired saints,
    Lay it to heart, oh youth.
Ho! let us sing it loudly
    My fellow-pilgrims all;
Oh! praise the Lord of Glory,
    Praise Him both great and small,
Aid me to chant His goodness
    Who sent His Son to die
That hell-deserving sinners
    Might dwell with Him on high.

And Thou, most precious Saviour,
    When shall we see Thy face,
Bright Morning Star, shine forth in all
    The glory of Thy grace,
Lord Jesus come, with voice and trump
    And manifested power;
Oh come, and take Thy loved ones home:
    Hail to that blessed hour!

The Sunny Side of Seventy