 | The Poems of Selwyn Image |  |
52
CHRISTMAS MDCCCCII
to A. H. M.
Friend, one indeed can scarce believe
Twelve months are gone since Christmas Eve
Last brought my greeting to your door!
On swifter wings than once he bore
Surely old Time escapes us!
Twelve months are gone since Christmas Eve
Last brought my greeting to your door!
On swifter wings than once he bore
Surely old Time escapes us!
Well,
'Tis but an idle thing to dwell
In wailing voice of fond regret
On radiant blossoms hardly set
Ere from our gaze they're snatched away:
On what brief space the longest day
Vouchsafes for all our fancy schemes:
Or, when youth's lost her coloured dreams
Of life's immensity, how soon
The hastening hours lead on the noon,
And the first shadows fall: or how,
The less above, the more below,
Life's hour-glass faster drops its sand.
'Tis but an idle thing to dwell
In wailing voice of fond regret
On radiant blossoms hardly set
Ere from our gaze they're snatched away:
On what brief space the longest day
Vouchsafes for all our fancy schemes:
Or, when youth's lost her coloured dreams
Of life's immensity, how soon
The hastening hours lead on the noon,
And the first shadows fall: or how,
The less above, the more below,
Life's hour-glass faster drops its sand.
Again an Old Year ends!
Your hand,
Dear Friend, then! Well! I know it brings
Your heart along with it. The wings
Of Time fly swifter? Let them fly.
God's in His heaven: and you and I
Look upward undismayed, erect,
Building for That Great Architect
Some corner of His House of Grace,
Beyond the realms of time and space.
Dear Friend, then! Well! I know it brings
Your heart along with it. The wings
Of Time fly swifter? Let them fly.
God's in His heaven: and you and I
Look upward undismayed, erect,
Building for That Great Architect
Some corner of His House of Grace,
Beyond the realms of time and space.
1902.
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