When you've reached the day that you look ahead
And see the place where your journey ends,
When Time has robbed you of youthful might—
What is the secret of your delight?"
And an old man smiled as he answered me:
"The glory of age isn't gold or friends,
When we've reached the valley of Soon-To-Be
And note the place where our journey ends;
The glory of age, be it understood,
Is a boy out there who is making good.