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...OCTAVES: 15 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON SPRING [IN WAR-TIME] by HENRY TIMROD THE AGED LOVER RENOUNCETH LOVE by THOMAS VAUX ECSTACY by KENNETH SLADE ALLING LESBIA'S COMPLAINT AGAINST THYRISIS HIS INCONSTANCY; A SONNET by PHILIP AYRES |