“Life At Eighty-Five -- By: Alfred S. Badger

Journal: Bibliotheca Sacra
Volume: BSAC 085:338 (Apr 1928)
Article: “Life At Eighty-Five
Author: Alfred S. Badger

“Life At Eighty-Five

Alfred S. Badger

An octogenarian writes, “Again I wish to express my high appreciation of the Bibliotheca Sacra, and of my expectation of reading it until I am at least one hundred years of age,” and sends this poem from his pen:

Life At Eighty-Five

Much like the sun-rise, life begins to be
As comes it forth from out eternity.
A sheet of pearl, first on the eastern sky;
Then colors of the rose along it lie.
The angel of the morning dips his brush
In varied colors; then with mighty rush,
He, crimson, over day’s birth chamber spreads;
And scarlet then its brilliant radiance sheds.
Then trees, and vines, and shrubs, and flowers awake;
And feathered songsters sing while sun doth break
The fetters of the night; and it is day!
Then upward rises He upon His way
To His great throne; the height supreme, the zenith;
From which He reigns in splendor; and which meaneth,
For man, his fruits and grains, prosperity.
And though He reigns at times with great severity,
Yet is His reign both glorious and great,
Majestic; and most mighty His estate.
Descent begins adown the western sky,
Where evening waits on night, and glories lie,
Beyond the power of words or artist’s brush to paint.
All that is written, or on canvas shown, is faint
Indeed, as seen when clouds put on their robes
Of scarlet, pearl and purple; fiery lobes.
Then mountains grand appear, and castles grim,
Rest on the heights, and then grow dim.
The sun, great ball of beauty, sinks from sight;
And twilight glories now reflect his light
Along the wide horizon, beautiful and bright;
While falls the sun to rest within the arms of night!
This represents to me the life of man.
Exhibits both its beauty and its plan.
In its beginning beautiful; entwined
With hope and opportunity combined.
Then runs its course, fulfills its purpose true;

Companion of the Lord; then bids adieu,
To time; and finds the last the best of all;
More happy, joyous, blessed; then the call,
“Come Home!” The sun goes down, the day is done!
The stars shine out in glory, and heaven is begun!
The glorious heaven, hidden is, from view,
While day remaineth, its duties to pursue.
But when the day is done, then doth the stars appear,
In all their glory, and heaven draweth near.
And so with life, the heaven to us is hidden;
But when it ends, the heaven to which we’re bidden,
Bursts on our view in all its love and glory,
Behold the KING! the King of gospel story.
At eighty-five, to me, life doth appear
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