 | Rhymes to be traded for bread |  |
WE CANNOT CONQUER TIME.
WE CANNOT CONQUER TIME. SIT DOWN, BREATHE SLOW,AND MUSE A LITTLE, SINCE GREAT TIME IS KING.
THE MOTH AND RUST SHALL DO THEIR DESTINED WORK
UPON US, THOUGH WE POLISH EVERYTHING.
AND ALL OUR QUAINT ATTEMPTS TO BEAT THE CLOCK
TO TREAD TIME DOWN TO DEATH WITH HURRYING FEET,
SHALL SLOWLY END. WE WILL BEAR HIGH HIS FANE,
AND COUNT HIS EVERLASTING BONDAGE MEET.
THE MOTH, THE RUST, THE IVY AND THE RAIN,
THE HAIL AND SNOW EVEN TODAY WEAR DOWN
EACH TOWER THAT SPEAKS OF NEWNESS ALL TOO WELL.
EACH POMPOUS PALACE WITH ITS GLITTERING CROWN.
THE MOTH, THE RUST, THE IVY AND THE RAIN,
THE HAIL AND SNOW AND WIND, WILL, AT THE LAST,
ENTER THE INNER HEART OF THIS OUR RACE,
UNTIL WE LOVE NO FUTURE LIKE THE PAST.
| Rhymes to be traded for bread | |