 | Lays of Leisure Hours |  |
THE FLIGHT OF TIME.
Moments pass slowly on,
Years fly apace,
When shall the wearied One
Rest from the Race?
Years fly apace,
When shall the wearied One
Rest from the Race?
Whether we smile or weep—
Time keeps his flight—
Hours, days, may seem to creep,
Life speeds like Light!
Time keeps his flight—
Hours, days, may seem to creep,
Life speeds like Light!
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Whether we laugh or groan,
Seasons change fast;
Oh! what hath ever flown
Swift as the Past?
Seasons change fast;
Oh! what hath ever flown
Swift as the Past?
What though we chafe and chide,
Time holds his pace;
No step—no noiseless stride
Doth he retrace!
Time holds his pace;
No step—no noiseless stride
Doth he retrace!
Hastening, still hastening on,
None may deem how;
But when 'tis fled and gone—
Then seems Time slow?
None may deem how;
But when 'tis fled and gone—
Then seems Time slow?
Time, while we chide thy pace,
Reckless and proud,
Oft doth thy shadowy face
Laugh from our shroud!
Reckless and proud,
Oft doth thy shadowy face
Laugh from our shroud!
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