By Ruby Archer
Time! Thou art a youth, a youth all power.
I cannot vision thee an aged man.
Thou art the messenger of century
To century, thou Hermes-footed one;
And with thy wand of progress thou dost wake
All worlds to motion and all men to zeal.
No prayer may stay thy pinions beating swift,
Nor make thee falter on thy purposed flight.
The hours thou lettest fall upon our hearts
Are precious flowers that we would cherish fain,
But they must die for brighter blooms to live.
On then, O tireless, great-eyed Time!
Child of Eternity! We follow thee.
Lean o’er us, groping in the dust of earth,
And clear our vision with a dream of heaven.