(After Martial) br br To-day, my friend is seventy-five; br He tells his tale with no regret; br His brave old eyes are steadfast yet, br His heart the .lightest heart alive. br br He sees behind him green and wide br The pathway of his pilgrim years; br He sees the shore, and dreadless hears br The whisper of the creeping tide. br br For out of all his days, not one br Has passed and left its unlaid ghost br To seek a light for ever lost, br Or wail a deed for ever done. br br So for reward of life-long truth br He lives again, as good men can, br Redoubling his allotted span br With memories of a stainless youth.