How faithfully they bore you, year by year,
Through every hill and hallway, dance and stair,
They bent in grace, they held without a care,
And carried you through seasons far and near.

What miles they knew — the cobblestones of youth,
The soft and yielding grass of summer lawns,
Through all of life's long dusks and golden dawns,
They held their silent, steadfast, bending truth.

Now let us pause and honour what has passed,
Those faithful joints that served so long and well,
Whose story only bone and sinew tell —
A quiet devotion, unsurpassed.