Poems (Schiller)/The flight of time
THE FLIGHT OF TIME
The record of another year Is quickly being sealed;The weal and woe that it has wrought Both hidden and revealed.
The snowy garb of winter days, The frost-work on the trees,First vanished 'neath the balmy breath Of springtime's pleasant breeze.
Then springtime's blossoms drifted down And carpeted the earth,And joyfully we turn to hail Fair summer's rose-crowned birth.
She ruled awhile, then laid aside Her flower-spangled crown;And autumn's wealth of golden fruit On us was showered down.
The emerald leaves first turned to gold, Then faded, pale and dry;And now the trees their bare, gaunt limbs Are stretching to the sky.
Old Time speeds on, and very soon Another year will dawn;And this with all its joy and grief Will be forever gone.December 8, 1868.