I want to come to autumn with the silver in my hair,
And maybe have the children stop to look and me and stare;
I'd like to reach October free from blemish or from taint,
As splendid as a maple tree which artist love to paint.
I'd like to come to autumn, with my life work fully done
And look a little like a tree that's gleaming in the sun;
I'd like to think that I at last could come through care and tears
And be as fair to look upon as every elm appears.
But when I reach October, full contented I shall be
If those with whom I've walked through life shall still have faith in me;
Nor shall I dread the winter's frost, when brain and body tire,
If I have made my life a thing which others can admire.
Edgar Allen Guest