Original Version
"To a Friend on her Birth Day" Oct. 31 1847
Twice thirty years and three
Have roll'd with speed away
Since first your mortal eyes
Beheld the light of Day.
And more than forty years
Have you and I together
Run the swift race of Life
In fair and stormy weather.
How short must be the span
That now remains to run
And so does that appear
From whence we first begun!
As more than seven years
Your sermon I am found
I may be first to leave
This little spot of ground
On which so many years
Our dwelling place has been
In which we many ills
And much of Good has seen.
For all your kindness shown
I wish my thanks to give
And hope to grateful prove
As long as I shall live.
If ought that I have done
Has caus'd you grief of heart
I ask forgiveness now
E'er we are call'd to part.
And beg your prayers for me
That I may be forgiven
Of God for all my sins
And thus prepar'd for Heaven.
There may we meet at last
When Earthly cares are o'er
With all the blissful throng
On that immortal shore.
And songs of grateful praise
Employ our daily breath
To Him who sav'd our souls
From Everlasting Death!
But while you sojourn here
May no rude changes come
To cross your daily path
And mar your peaceful home.
And never may you want
A friend your heart to cheer
To hush the rising sigh
And wipe the starting tear.
To share with you the joys
That grow on Earth's low soil
And those of Heavenly Birth
Which sweeten ev'ry toil.
And when your toils are o'er
And you are call'd to Die!
With every needful care
May some kind friend be nigh.
To decently prepare
Your life forsaken clay
To take its peaceful sleep
Till wak'd to Endless Day.
C. Bryant
