01.01.2011, 12:43
MY TIMEPIECE.
The hour has struck its advent and farewell,
And hark ! another hour begins to beat !
As when a crier stops, and rings his bell
To tell a loss, then on with busy feet
To raise the cry elsewhere ; our flying hours
We waste, and baulk them of their noblest use ;
And so disable our best gifts and powers,
Or leave them open to the fiend's abuse ;
Or should I—the same moral to convey—
A more derisive apologue subjoin,
My clock's a mocking thief, who steals my coin.
Then, counting up the sum, as if to say,
' How many precious pieces I purloin,
One, two, three, four,'—trips daintily away.
The hour has struck its advent and farewell,
And hark ! another hour begins to beat !
As when a crier stops, and rings his bell
To tell a loss, then on with busy feet
To raise the cry elsewhere ; our flying hours
We waste, and baulk them of their noblest use ;
And so disable our best gifts and powers,
Or leave them open to the fiend's abuse ;
Or should I—the same moral to convey—
A more derisive apologue subjoin,
My clock's a mocking thief, who steals my coin.
Then, counting up the sum, as if to say,
' How many precious pieces I purloin,
One, two, three, four,'—trips daintily away.