I skipped upon the feet of childhood
And rested not all the day
Then youthful times came along
And bountiful energy did not asway
Middle age with slower gait
Soon followed close behind
Then in these days of olden years
No energy can I find
I wonder where the years have gone
Those that slipped so quickly by
And realise now with awful thought
Just how old am I!
Dear Lord I have so wasted years
When I had much more zest
To work for you my Saviour friend
And given you my best
Now my race is nearly run
No more time to toil
Then someone with measured stride
Will carry me to the soil
Yes skip you may then stride along
Then shuffle your slow feet
Then be carried though you know not
In a coffin going up the street
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