Words by the Wayside | ||
142
Bury St. Edmunds
The New Age
Hark! the music of the ages,
Dirge and paean, masque and chime,
Loves and hates—heroic rages—
Deeds tyrannic, deaths sublime!
Slowly, sadly,
Swiftly, madly,
Swells the mighty march of time.
Dirge and paean, masque and chime,
Loves and hates—heroic rages—
Deeds tyrannic, deaths sublime!
Slowly, sadly,
Swiftly, madly,
Swells the mighty march of time.
Thrones and faiths are falling, changing,
Vanishing like morning dew!
Hark! the unseen fingers ranging,
Mingling false and mingling true—
Joy and sorrow,
Night and morrow—
Weave the fugue of old and new.
Vanishing like morning dew!
Hark! the unseen fingers ranging,
Mingling false and mingling true—
Joy and sorrow,
Night and morrow—
Weave the fugue of old and new.
Still for ampler knowledge yearning,
Life we think with discord teems,
Only in the end discerning
That which is from that which seems.
Heaven will show it,
Earth shall know it,
When she wakens from her dreams.
Life we think with discord teems,
Only in the end discerning
That which is from that which seems.
Heaven will show it,
Earth shall know it,
When she wakens from her dreams.
Words by the Wayside | ||