Classic Poem

It is not time that flies;
'Tis we, 'tis we, are flying:
It is not Life that dies;
'Tis we, 'tis we, are dying.
Time and eternity are one;
Time is eternity begun:
Life changes, yet without decay;
'Tis we alone who pass away.

It is not Truth that flies;
'Tis we, 'tis we, are flying:
It is not Faith that dies;
'Tis we, 'tis we, are dying.
O ever-during faith and truth,
Whose youth is age, whose age is youth!
Twin stars of immortality,
Ye cannot perish from our sky.

It is not Hope that flies;
'Tis we, 'tis we, are flying:
It is not Love that dies;
'Tis we, 'tis we, are dying.
Twin streams, that have in heaven your birth,
Ye glide in gentle joy through earth.
We fade, like flowers beside you sown;
Ye are still flowing, flowing on.

Yet we but die to live;
It is from death we're flying:
For ever lives our life;
For us there is no dying.
We die but as the spring-bud dies,
In summer's golden glow to rise.
These be our days of April bloom;
Our July is beyond the tomb.