When my hair is thin and silvered

And my time of toil is through

When I've many years behind me

And ahead of me a few


I shall want to sit I reckon

Sort of dreaming in the sun

And recall the roads I've traveled

And the many things I've done


I hope there'll be no picture

That I'll hate to look upon

When the time to paint it better

Or to wipe it out is gone


I hope there'll be no vision

Of a hasty word I've said

That has left a trail of sorrow

Like a whip welt sore and red

And I hope my old age dreaming

Will bring back no bitter scene

Of a time when I was selfish

Or a time when I was mean


When I'm getting old and feeble

And I'm far along life's way

I don't want to sit regretting

Any bygone yesterday


I am painting now the picture

That I'll want someday to see

I am filling in a canvas

That will soon come back to me


Though nothing great is on it

And though nothing there is fine

I shall want to look it over

When I'm old and call it mine


So I do not dare to leave it

While the paint is warm and wet

With a single thing upon it

That I later will regret

~Author Unknown~

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Midi: At This Moment by MARGI HARRELL
Used with Permission