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Article TIME WAS, TIME IS. Page 1 of 1
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Time Was, Time Is.
TIME WAS , TIME IS .
TIME was , alas ! but is no more , How strangely its hours have jiass'd away ; Time is , with its darker hills before , Which only recall a fairer clay . Its dreams , its shadows , all are gone , Its moments of grace have left us here ; And you and I count one by one Each faded gift , each word so clear .
Time was , iu all of roseate hue , As it gleamed upon us in ancient time ; Time is , with its posy sad of rue , Though it whispers softly of trust sublime ; For faith is lingering with us still , And seems to lift our hearts on high , As it nerves the wavering heart and will With consolations which never die .
Time was , in gladder scenes and days , . Which haunt us yet with their gentle voice ; Time is , in these dreary , weary ways Which seem to say " no more rejoice . " Alack , for us , as time melts and flies With the crosses of each hourly scene ; For us there is now no " sweet surprise , " For us there is only " what has been . "
Time was , in the ardent love of youth , Time was , in the moments of manhood ' s trust ; Time is , in the accents of sterner truth , Time is , in ashes and crumbling dust . No more , no more , shall we be again What ouce we were in the clays of old ; Life ' s soft delirium ends in pain , The fancy is o ' er , the tale is told . W .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Time Was, Time Is.
TIME WAS , TIME IS .
TIME was , alas ! but is no more , How strangely its hours have jiass'd away ; Time is , with its darker hills before , Which only recall a fairer clay . Its dreams , its shadows , all are gone , Its moments of grace have left us here ; And you and I count one by one Each faded gift , each word so clear .
Time was , iu all of roseate hue , As it gleamed upon us in ancient time ; Time is , with its posy sad of rue , Though it whispers softly of trust sublime ; For faith is lingering with us still , And seems to lift our hearts on high , As it nerves the wavering heart and will With consolations which never die .
Time was , in gladder scenes and days , . Which haunt us yet with their gentle voice ; Time is , in these dreary , weary ways Which seem to say " no more rejoice . " Alack , for us , as time melts and flies With the crosses of each hourly scene ; For us there is now no " sweet surprise , " For us there is only " what has been . "
Time was , in the ardent love of youth , Time was , in the moments of manhood ' s trust ; Time is , in the accents of sterner truth , Time is , in ashes and crumbling dust . No more , no more , shall we be again What ouce we were in the clays of old ; Life ' s soft delirium ends in pain , The fancy is o ' er , the tale is told . W .