Classic Poem

Hour glass — Flight ON T IME .

Voice of the ages, wisdom ever new,
Speaking to Masons, in simplicity,
Soon thy last sand must leave the glass of time;
For while we contemplate them, they grow less,
And even now still less as yet we muse;
The Hour Glass bids us gauge the unfinished work
That meets the eye, and sum the amount, and so
With double assiduity to toil;
Each grain recorded in celestial scroll,
Demands of all a corresponding deed.

Life's sands are dropping, dropping, —
Each grain a moment dies;
No stay has time, nor stopping —
Behold how swift he flies!
He bears away our rarest —
They smile and disappear;
The cold grave wraps our fairest —
Each falling grain's a tear.

Life's sands are softly falling, —
Death's foot is light as snow;
'Tis fearful, 'tis appalling,
To see how swift they flow;
To read the fatal warning
The sands so plainly tell;
To feel there's no returning
Through death's dark, shadowy dale

Life's sands give admonition
To use the moments well;
Each grain bears holy mission,
And this the tale they tell:
" Let zeal than time run faster,
Each grain some good afford,
Then at the last T HE M ASTER
Shall double our reward! "