Heaven's chimes are slow, but sure to strike at last: Earth's sands are slow, but surely dropping thro': And much we have to suffer, much to do, Before the time be past. Chimes that keep time are neither slow nor fast: Not many are the numbered sands nor few: A time to suffer, and a time to do, And then the time is past. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DARK FOREST by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS SONNET WRITTEN IN THE FALL OF 1914: 4 by GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY THE OLD FERRYMAN by ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM ABER STATIONS: STATIO QUINTA by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN ON THE DISPOSITION OF MIND by JOHN BYROM TO THE MOST DISCONSOLATE GREAT BRITAIN by THOMAS CAMPION THE FEAR OF FLOWERS by JOHN CLARE ON A LATE CONUBIAL RUPTURE IN HIGH LIFE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |