I wear not the purple of earth-born kings, Nor the stately ermine of lordly things; But monarch and courtier, though great they may be, Must fall from their glory and bend to me. My sceptre is gemless; yet who can say They will not come under its mighty sway? Ye may know who I am, -- there's the passing chime, And the dial to herald me, Old King Time! Softly I creep, like a thief in the night, After cheeks all blooming and eyes all light; My steps are seen on the patriarch's brow, In the deep-worn furrows and locks of snow. Who laughs at my power? the young and une gay; But they dream not how closely I track their way. Wait till their first bright sands have run, And they will not smile at what Time hath done. I eat through treasures with moth and rust; I lay the gorgeous palace in dust; I make the shell-proof tower my own, And break the battlement, stone from stone. Work on at your cities and temples, proud man, Build high as ye may, and strong as ye can; But the marble shall crumble, the pillar shall fall, And Time, Old Time, will be king after all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A FAT LADY SEEN FROM THE TRAIN by FRANCES CROFTS DARWIN CORNFORD A CORN SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR LITTLE BROWN BABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 8 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THESEUS AND ARIADNE by FRANCIS BEAUMONT TO A REDBREAST, THAT FLEW INTO A HOUSE ... by ELIZABETH BENTLEY |