Alas! how swift the mo­ments fly!
How flash the years along!
Scarce here, yet gone al­rea­dy by,
The bur­den of a song.
See child­hood, youth, and man­hood pass,
And age, with fur­rowed brow;
Time was—Time shall be–drain the glass—
But where in Time is now?

Time is the mea­sure but of change;
No pre­sent hour is found;
The past, the future, fill the range
Of Time’s un­ceas­ing round.
Where, then is now? In realms ab­ove,
With God’s aton­ing Lamb,
In re­gions of eter­nal love,
Where sits en­throned I AM.

Then pil­grim, let thy joys and tears
On Time no long­er lean;
But hence­forth all thy hopes and fears
From earth’s af­fect­ions wean:
To God let vo­tive ac­cents rise;
With truth, with vir­tue, live;
So all the bliss that Time de­nies
Eternity shall give.