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Time s finger on the dial of my life Points

Time's finger on the dial of my life
Points to high noon! And yet the half spent day
Leaves less than half remaining for the dark
Bleak shadows of the grave engulf the end.
To those who burn the candle to the stick
The sputtering socket yields but little light.
Long life is sadder than early death.
We cannot count on raveled threads of age
Whereof to weave a fabric. We must use
The warp and woof the ready present yields
And toils while daylight lasts. When I bethink
How brief the past the future still more brief
Calls on to action action! Not for me
Is time for retrospection or for dreams
Not time for self laudation or remorse.
Have I done nobly? Then I must not let
Dead yesterday unborn to morrow shame.
Have I done wrong? Well let the bitter taste
Of fruit that turned to ashes on my lip
Be my reminder in temptations hour
And keep me silent when I could condemn.
Sometimes it takes the acid of a sin
To cleanse the clouded windows of our souls
So pity may shine through them.
Looking back
My faults and errors seem like stepping stones
That led the way to knowledge of the truth
And made me value virtue sorrows shine
In rainbow colours o'er the gulf of years
Where lie forgotten pleasures.
Looking forth
Out to the westers sky still bright with noon
I feel well spurred and booted for the strife
That ends not till Nirvana is attained.
Battling with fate with men and with myself
Up the steep summit of my life's forenoon
Three things I learned three things of precious worth
To guide and help me down the western slope.
I have learned how to pray and toil and save.
To pray for courage to receive what comes
Knowing what comes to be divinely sent.
To toil for universal good since thus
And only thus can good come unto me.
To save by giving whatsoe'er I have
To those who have not this alone is gain.

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by:- admin posted in:- ella wheeler wilcox

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