Imitation Of The Olden Poets
Time
is
a
taper
waning
fast!
Use
it,
man,
well
whilst
it
doth
last:
Lest
burning
downwards
it
consume
away,
Before
thou
hast
commenced
the
labour
of
the
day.
Time
is
a
pardon
of
a
goodly
soil!
Plenty
shall
crown
thine
honest
toil:
But
if
uncultivated,
rankest
weeds
Shall
choke
the
efforts
of
the
rising
seeds.
Time
is
a
leasehold
of
uncertain
date!
Granted
to
thee
by
everlasting
fate.
Neglect
not
thou,
ere
thy
short
term
expire,
To
save
thy
soul
from
ever-burning
fire.
