Beauty of life

Life is not contained in age Its beauty lies in its usage Its vain we live a hundred summers With no account of the powers Bestowed man by the creator. We live not in years but in deeds In how we help life fill her needs Not in wealth or treasures gathered But, in the services rendered To bless the whole of ‘manity. Who knows where life seems to sway? I bid him come openly say It sure is a useless life That lives and for nothing strife Such is deemed to life a waste. Hurry before it’s your time to rest Strife to give to life your best Less after the setting sun When your time in life is done You are deemed to life as a waste.