Oh knell of a passing time, Will it never cease to chime? Oh stir of the tedious sea, Will it never cease to be? Yea, when night and when day. Moon and sun, pass away. Surely the sun burns low. The moon makes ready to go. Broad ocean ripples to waste. Time is running in haste, Night is numbered, and day Numbered to pass away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH WHEN THE SPEED COMES by ROBERT FROST DOMESTIC SONG by DAVID IGNATOW A CONTEMPLATION UPON FLOWERS by HENRY KING (1592-1669) FOR CHARLIE'S SAKE by JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER WYATT BEING IN PRISON, TO BRIAN by THOMAS WYATT |