University of Virginia Library

Time.

A Ballad for the Aged.

Light as flakes of falling snow
Drop the silent-footed hours;
And the days,—they come and go,
And the years—we scarcely know
How their frosts, and fruits, and flowers,
Transient crops of weal and woe,
Change, and pass, and perish so!
While we muse upon To-day
Lo! the dream has died away;
And there lives what was To-morrow,
With its present joy or sorrow,
Pains and pleasures, fear and hope,
A variable kaleidoscope:
So on, so on; till years have sped
By tens and twenties over head,
And those flakes that fell unfelt
Have grown to snows—that never melt!