Time's Defeat

Time has made conquest of so many things     That once were mine.    Swift-footed, eager youth     That ran to meet the years; bold brigand health,     That broke all laws of reason unafraid,     And laughed at talk of punishment.     Close ties of blood and friendship, joy of life,     Which reads its music in the major key     And will not listen to a minor strain -     These things and many more are spoils of time.     Yet as a conqueror who only storms     The outposts of a town, and finds the fort     Too strong to be assailed, so time retreats     And knows his impotence.    He cannot take     My three great jewels from the crown of life:     Love, sympathy, and faith; and year on year     He sees them grow in lustre and in worth,     And glowers by me, plucking at his beard,     And dragging, as he goes, a useless scythe.     Once in the dark he plotted with his friend     Grim Death, to steal my treasures.    Death replied:     'They are immortal, and beyond thy reach,     I could but set them in another sphere,     To shine with greater lustre.'          Time and Death     Passed on together, knowing their defeat;     And I am singing by the road of life.