Fifty kaleidoscopic years, of the sun's going up and down.
There at the beginning, we hope to be present tomorrow.
Across rose strewn seasons, years stand victory crowned,
As the twilight evening redbirds, sing the mellow soprano!

The time has come to celebrate, with many thanks to God,
Underneath midnight moon, milky stars, or hued rainbow,
Like a sunset grand canyon, the years leave one overawed,
For wheresoever they may pass, sweet memory will follow.