When we have passed beyond life's middle arch,
With what accelerated speed the years
Seem to flit by us, sowing hopes and fears
As they pursue their never-ceasing march!
But is our wisdom equal to the speed
That brings us nearer to the shadowy bourn,
Whence we must never, never more return?
Alas! each wish is wiser than the deed!
'We take no note of time but from its loss,'
Sang one who reasoned solemnly and well;
And so it is, we make that dowry dross
Which would be treasure, did we learn to quell
Vain dreams and passions. Wisdom's alchemy
Transmutes to priceless gold the moments as they fly!