Classic Poem

We have gathered here to say,
Greetings to you on this day!
We are glad to have you here
Vanquishing another year,
Doughty champion of Time,
Rounding off an even score,
With the power of your prime,
At your well-loved Sagamore.
May the happy custom grow,
That your future years may show
— Better than the printed page —
Grayness is not mark of age,
Nor is he old whose gait is slow.

Glories of September hours,
Fabrics woven of crimson flowers,
Branches dipped in richest dyes,
Massed in tender harmonies —
With her tributal display
Autumn comes to hail the day.
Now the promise of the bud,
And the blossom's maidenhood
Are in ripest fruit fulfilled;
Voices of the zephyr now
Bring the apple from the bough:
Thus the orchards give their yield.
What were all the shoots of spring,
And the long developing
In dark rain and burning sun,
But the purpose of the seeds?
After summer's course is run,
Reaping is of perfect deeds.
Autumn brings to man at length
Maturity of life and strength,
Heart for labor, firmer hope,
Clear-lit way where youth must grope.