A CROSS the upward-sloping vale of years,
Narrow for most, for you, dear friends, how wide,
Where suns have poured their golden tide,
Though sometimes, also, fell the rain of tears —
Across the valley you have come and stand
On Pisgah heights where still the sunshine lies,
And calm and steadfast cast your eyes
Along the path that led you through the land.

'Tis half a century since the jocund day
When first you clasped your hands as man and wife
And mid the joys and griefs of life,
Your feet have trod the self-same honored way
The way was often long and hard and steep,
The burden often wearisome and sore,
But faithfully its weight you bore
With mutual comfort and affection deep.

Still, for the most part, pleasant was the vale,
With peaceful waters shaded from the heat,
Congenial friends for converse sweet.
And blessings hidden e'en when joy might fail.
Children and children's children call you blest,
Three generations look into your face.
Respect and honor shed their grace
As on you journey toward life's wondrous west.

And now around you in a happy throng
Gather your friends and kin from every side
To offer joy to groom and bride,
To celebrate the day with feast and song.
My verses only voice the wish of all:
God grant your lives be opulent and long,
Stout hearts be yours, faith firm, hands strong,
Though Winter follow on the changing Fall!