THE MARCH OF TIME.
Steadily marching, swift or slow,
Moments and months and days they go.
Moments and months and days and years
Laden with hope and love and tears.
Laden with hope that cheered the way
When earth lay wrapped in twilight gray,
In twilight gray, till shining through
The fair, sweet promise grew and grew.
Fair, sweet promise of joy, of bliss,
We should not, could not, would not, miss
Of bliss so perfect, bliss so true,
We fain would keep that bliss in view.
Steadily marching, swift or slow,
Moments and months and days they go,
Moments and months and days and years,
And then—eternity appears.