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 Savviour
     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!