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Milton's "On Time"

Milton

Milton's "On Time":

FLy envious Time, till 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, [ 5 ]

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 all, thy greedy self consum'd, [ 10 ]

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, [ 15 ]

With Truth, and Peace, and Love shall ever shine

About the supreme Throne

Of him, t' whose happy-making sight alone,

When once our heav'nly-guided soul shall clime,

Then all this Earthy grosnes quit, [ 20 ]

Attir'd with Stars, we shall for ever sit,

Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee O Time.