Time is endless in this hands, my lord
There is none to count this minutes
Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers
Though you knowest how to wait
The centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower
We have no time to lose
And having no time we must scramble for a chance
we are to poor to be late
and thus it is that time goes by
while i give it to every querulous man who claims it,
and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last
at the end of the day I hasten in fear lest the gate be shut
but i find that yet there is time....
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