“The Flight of Time” by James Gates Percival

by Ann Neilson

The Flight of Time
James Gates Percival
From Clio, No. III, pg. 187

Faintly flow, thou falling river,
Like a dream that dies away;
Down to ocean gliding ever,
Keep thy calm unruffled way:
Time with such a silent motion,
Floats along, on wings of air,
To eternity’s dark ocean,
Burying all its treasures there.

Roses bloom, and then they wither;
Cheeks are bright, then fade and die
Shapes of light are wafted hither—
Then, like visions, hurry by:
Quick as clouds at evening driven
O’er the many-colour’d west,
Years are bearing us to heaven,
Home of happiness and rest.