And shines across the dimming years,
Its memory a hallowed light
Of laughter interspersed with tears.
The coal-oil lamp burns low.
On father sitting there
It casts its homey glow
Upon his silvered hair.
The coal-oil lamp
Recalls old thrills:
Young foreheads damp
From climbing hills...
The coal
Of youth will light
The path from start to goal--
The coal-oil lamp burns low tonight.
Reflections
