Alas! How swift the moments fly! <br />How flash the years along! <br />Scarce here, yet gone already by, <br />The burden of a song. <br />See childhood, youth, and manhood pass, <br />And age, with furrowed brow; rime was- <br />Time shall be-drain the glass <br />But where in Time is now? <br />Time is the measure but of change; <br />No present hour is found; <br />The past, the future, fill the range <br />Of Time's unceasing round. <br />Where, then, is now? <br />In realms above, <br />With God's atoning Lamb, <br />In regions of eternal love, <br />Where sits enthroned I AM. <br />Then, pilgrim, let thy joys and tears <br />On Time no longer lean; <br />But henceforth all thy hopes and fears <br />From earth's affections wean: <br />To God let votive accents rise; <br />With truth, with virtue, live; <br />So all the bliss that Time denies <br />Eternity shall give.<br /><br />John Quincy Adams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-hour-glass-4/
