How swift soft-feathered Time sails on
Its skyward flight, nor stays to con
The gulfs of space it wingeth over,—
Mere pools that hint of a shoreless yon!
Sunsets and dawns, mirage, the sea,
Foreshadow Nature's fixed decree,
While steady rolls the round of seasons,—
The soul foreknows its eternity.
From spiritual heights beyond the spheres,
My ear elusive music hears;
In stressful hours it falls and hovers,
And life is lift to AEonian years.