25th Anniversary of the "Old Folks' Home" by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

We come, but not to celebrate, / Amid the flight and whirl of years, / The deeds of heroes, on whose brows / Are laurels, drenched with blood and tears.

Nor yet to tell of wondrous deeds, / Performed on fields of bloodless strife; / But of the lovely, precious things, / That bless and beautify our life.

And from the annals of the poor, / We would unfold a shining page; / And tell of kindly hands that smoothed / The rugged path of faltering age.

To shelter those who long have borne / Life's chilling storms and searching heat, / In restful homes, with love alight, / What charity more pure and sweet?

But not beneath this spacious Home / Was laid the first foundation stone, / But in the hearts that learned to feel / For woman, stricken, old and lone.

To Hall and Truman, Still and Laing, / Was given power to aid and bless; / And, faithful to her sacred charge, / Constant and helping, stood Ann Jess.

May Sarah Pennock, whose kind hand / Has often brought the "Home" relief, / Feel life replete with God's great peace; / Find light in darkness, joy in grief.

Custodian of the generous purse, / May Israel Johnson long remain; -- / And reach at last the happy land, / Where faithful service meets its gain.

And join again departed forms / Of wife and sister passed before; / Who gave their treasure to the Lord, / By generous gifts unto His poor.

And some who met with us erewhile, / Have passed unto the other side; -- / Like precious fragrance, may their deeds / Within our heart of hearts abide.

Year after year, within these halls, / Did Dillwyn Parrish faithful stand; -- / Till He "who gives his loved ones sleep"

Released, in death, his helpful hand.

Of those who scattered flowers fair / Around the verge of parting life, / We would record with grateful words, / The names of Stephen Smith and wife.

Whose hands, enriched with golden store, / Gave of their wealth to build this "Home,"

And changed a narrow domicile, / Into a grand and stately dome.

-- / Oh! when our earthly homes shall fail / And vanish from our fading sight, / May friends and patrons meet again / In God's fair halls of love and light.

Where homeless ones shall never weep, / Nor weary aged wanderers roam; -- / But walk amid the golden streets, / Secure within our Father's home.