Just as of old! The world rolls on and on;
The day dies into night — night into dawn —
Dawn into dusk — through centuries untold.—
Just as of old.
Time loiters not. The river ever flows,
Its brink or white with blossoms or with snows;
Its tide or warm with Spring or Winter cold:
Just as of old.
Lo! where is the beginning, where the end
Of living, loving, longing? Listen, friend!—
God answers with a silence of pure gold —
Just as of old.