TIME'S DEFEAT

Time has made conquest of so many things

That once were mine. Swift-footed, eager youth

That ran to meet the years; bold brigand health,

That broke all laws of reason unafraid,

And laughed at talk of punishment.

Close ties of blood and friendship, joy of life,

Which reads its music in the major key

And will not listen to a minor strain -

These things and many more are spoils of time.

Yet as a conqueror who only storms

The outposts of a town, and finds the fort

Too strong to be assailed, so time retreats

And knows his impotence. He cannot take

My three great jewels from the crown of life:

Love, sympathy, and faith; and year on year

He sees them grow in lustre and in worth,

And glowers by me, plucking at his beard,

And dragging, as he goes, a useless scythe.

Once in the dark he plotted with his friend

Grim Death, to steal my treasures. Death replied:

‘ They are immortal, and beyond thy reach,

I could but set them in another sphere,

To shine with greater lustre.’

Time and Death

Passed on together, knowing their defeat;

And I am singing by the road of life.