“Time in advance behind him hides
his wings.” Young.
As comes amain the glossy flying raven,
That with unwavering wing,
breast on the view,
Cleaves slow the lucid air beneath
the blue,
And seems scarce other than a figure graven
Ha! now the sweeping pinions flash as
levin,
And all their silken cordage
whistles loud!
Lo, the departing flight,
like fleck of cloud,
Is swallowed quick by the awaiting heaven!
So lag and tarry, to the youth, the years
In their oncoming from the
brooding sky,
Till bursts at
middle life their rushing speed
All breathless with the world of hopes
and fears;
And, lo, departing, the Eternal
Eye
Winks them to
moments in His endless brede!