My New World

  my prow is tending toward the west, Old voices growing faint, dear faces dim,   And all that I have loved the best Far back upon the waste of memory swim.   My old world disappears:   Few hopes and many fears     Accompany me.   But from the distance fair A sound of birds, a glimpse of pleasant skies,   A scent of fragrant air,   All soothingly arise In cooing voice, sweet breath, and merry eyes   Of grandson on my knee.   And ere my sails be furled,     Kind Lord, I pray     Thou let me live a day   In my new world.