 | Ailes d'Alouette |  |
41
THE ANT IN THE HOVR-GLASS
From
under our feet are falling
For ever the sands of Time;
Hardly with slow feet crawling
One step higher we climb.
For ever the sands of Time;
Hardly with slow feet crawling
One step higher we climb.
This day and that we o'ercome it—
The sinking vortex of sand;
And the hour we reach the summit
The end is near at hand.
The sinking vortex of sand;
And the hour we reach the summit
The end is near at hand.
| Ailes d'Alouette | |