The Hour-Glass

Alas! how swift the mo­ments fly!

How flash the years along!

Scarce here

yet gone al­rea­dy by

The bur­den of a song.

See child­hood

youth

and man­hood pass

And age

with fur­rowed brow;

Time was—Time shall be–drain the glass—

But where in Time is now?

Time is the mea­sure but of change;

No pre­sent hour is found;

The past

the future

fill the range

Of Time’s un­ceas­ing round.

Where

then is now? In realms ab­ove

With God’s aton­ing Lamb

In re­gions of eter­nal love

Where sits en­throned I AM.

Then pil­grim

let thy joys and tears

On Time no long­er lean;

But hence­forth all thy hopes and fears

From earth’s af­fect­ions wean:

To God let vo­tive ac­cents rise;

With truth

with vir­tue

live;

So all the bliss that Time de­nies

Eternity shall give.