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ON TIME
by John Milton
Fly envious Timetill thou run out thy race
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours
Whose speed is but the heavy Plummets pace;
And glut thy self with what thy womb devours
Which is no more then what is false and vain
And meerly mortal dross;
So little is our loss
So little is thy gain.
For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd
And last of allthy greedy self consum'd
Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss
With an individual kiss;
And Joy shall overtake us as a flood
When every thing that is sincerely good
And perfectly divine
With Truthand Peaceand Love shall ever shine
About the supreme Throne
Of himt' whose happy-making sight alone
When once our heav'nly-guided soul shall clime
Then all this Earthy grosnes quit
Attir'd with Starswe shall for ever sit
Triumphing over Deathand Chanceand thee O Time. - -
THE END