The Hour-Glass



Alas! how swift the moments fly!

How flash the years along!

Scarce here, yet gone already by,

The burden of a song.

See childhood, youth, and manhood pass,

And age, with furrowed brow;

Time was—Time shall be—drain the glass—

But where in Time is now?



Time is the measure but of change;

No present hour is found;

The past, the future, fill the range

Of Time’s unceasing round.

Where, then is now? In realms above,

With God’s atoning Lamb,

In regions of eternal love,

Where sits enthroned I AM.



Then pilgrim, let thy joys and tears

On Time no longer lean;

But henceforth all thy hopes and fears

From earth’s affections wean:

To God let votive accents rise;

With truth, with virtue, live;

So all the bliss that Time denies

Eternity shall give.

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