Not as
we’ve known him --
Old and strong and implacable
Striding endlessly with even step --
But young Time, something small
And fearful -- a white mouse, say,
Holding very still in the shadows,
Or running when he hopes the great owl
Who'll someday be called God
Has lofted off on His horrible silent wings
Old and strong and implacable
Striding endlessly with even step --
But young Time, something small
And fearful -- a white mouse, say,
Holding very still in the shadows,
Or running when he hopes the great owl
Who'll someday be called God
Has lofted off on His horrible silent wings
No comments:
Post a Comment