V.
“Immortalia ne speres monet annus et almum
Quæ rapit hora diem
.”
Hor., lib. iv. Od. vii. 7.
Yes, years, days, hours, that wave their wing
Through this our mortal span,
With changes on each outward thing,
And in the heart of man,
As with a thousand tongues they preach
No more, so frail and vain,
To build upon a sandy beach,
Where nothing can remain.
“My flesh and my heart faileth; but God is the strength
of my heart, and my portion for ever.”
Ps. lxxiii. 25.
Yet why do these so fleet appear
And wake the heart's deep sigh,
But that within a spark we bear
Of immortality?
With multitudinous voice they cry
For some more sure abode,
To labour everlastingly,
That we may dwell with God.
