Evening adventure

Gone is the joy of my childhood's glad morning,
Gone is my youth when all prospects were bright,
Gone is my strength and my work with scant warning.
What root for hope in life's sunset and night?

This: as each door of my life has been shut,
Groping and praying have always revealed
New paths of service -- God's guidance clear cut --
Battles to fight and new weapons to wield.

So, if the sunlight grows dim in the west,
Mixing the bitter with life's honeycomb,
Nothing shall darken the dawn in my breast.
Nothing can hinder when God calls me home.