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FIFTY YEARS Or THE GOLDEN WEDDING
Mrs J.B. Shrigley
[Riverside, Dorset, Muskoka - Sept, 18th, 1905]
Fifty years since we were wedded,
Fifty changeful, checkered years;
Years of sunshine and of shadows,
Years of gladness and of tears.
Years that oft seemed full of promise–
Bright as rainbow-tinted skies,–
But, too oft. The mists would gather
And along our pathway rise.
Well, indeed, do I remember
How my young heart thrilled with pain,
When, awakened by the patt’ring
Of a chill September rain.
When my bridal morn was clouded,
Of all mornings of the year,
Filling me with dark forebodings,
Filling me with nameless fear.
And I wondered, sadly wondered,
If it could a forecast be,
If the years would thus be clouded,
Filled with cares for you and me.
But my fears were all forgotten
E’er the closing of the day,
For the rain had ceased its falling
And the clouds had rolled away
Still, it seemed a fitting emblem,
Of the years that were to come,
Of the shadows that have fallen
Dark’ning oft our hearts and home.
But today we’ve reached the milestone
On life’s broad, uneven way,
Reached the goal so few attain to,
Reached our golden wedding day.
And new friends, and grownup children,
Loving words and gifts bestow,
Still we miss the oldtime faces,
Miss the friends of long ago.
Miss the fair, young smiling faces,
With their wishes, kind and gay,
As they fondly pressed about us
Fifty years ago today.
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