Copyright, 1887, by Wm. McEwen.
Composed by Charlotte McEwen.
Grandfather is past ninety, and little May but four,
Yet they love to sit together beside the cottage door;
And as the old man dances his darling on his knee
He tells her of the far-back time when he was young as she.
Those long and rambling stories May oft before has heard,
But she listens with wide open ears to every well-known word;
And in her mind she wonders if he remembers, too.
The man who lived in Noah's ark when this old world was new.
Grandfather's hair is scanty, and white as driven snow,
While May's rich curls are golden, kissed by the sun's warm glow:
But as the young head nestles fondly against the old
You see the sunlight blending the silver and the gold.
Grandfather's not book-learned, but from his early youth
He has striven to walk heavenward, and loved the way of truth;
And now he clasps his darling as the day is getting dim.
And both together murmur a simple evening hymn.
His stalwart sons come round him. all well advanced in years.
And tell him how the world goes on with all its hopes and fears;
But from their modern gossip he turns away to hear
The childish prattle little May is whispering in his ear.
Folks call the old man childish, it may be even so.
His heart is as a little child's, and tills we love to know;
And somewhere it is written, that not the wise alone,
But those who live in child-like faith, our Father calls his own.
Grandfather is past ninety, and little May but four.
So they will not sit together long beside that cottage door;
But we know when the old man from earth is called away.
His God and hers will still protect his darling little May.