Swift days, that up till now have flown Like time unheeded in an eerie dream, I reckoned years; but little did they seem More than numerals, somehow grown Into a vacuum known as Years. Now comes The awed sense of Time's unpitying pace. Each day grows shorter, faster now the race To total life; draw Something as its sum. Like one in danger, suddenly aroused, Apprehension stalks behind, before: Through all there lurks the sense of Nevermore. Nothing abides, though all for its day is housed. Beloved, amidst this passingness of Life, We alone stand, eternal man and wife. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMAGINARY ANCESTORS: THE GIRAFFE WOMAN OF BURMA by MADELINE DEFREES TIRED TIM by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE WHITE ISLAND, OR PLACE OF THE BLEST by ROBERT HERRICK ILLUSIONS by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON TO DOCTOR EMPIRIC by BEN JONSON |