Old-fashioned uncouth measurer of the day,
I love to watch thy filtering burthen pass;
Though some there are that live would bid thee stay;
But these view reasons through a different glass
From him, Time's meter, who addresses thee.
The world has joys which they may deem as such;
The world has wealth to season vanity,
And wealth is theirs to make their vainness much:
But small to do with joys and Fortune's fee
Hath he, Time's chronicler, who welcomes thee.
So jog thou on, through hours of doom'd distress;
So haste thou on the glimpse of hopes to come;
As every sand-grain counts a trouble less,
As every drain'd glass leaves me nearer home.
To An Hour-glass
John Clare
(1)
Poem topics: home, small, stay, vanity, Season, view, live, glimpse, watch, trouble, Valentine's Day, fortune, distress, drain, love, time, world, I love you, wealth, glass, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
<< The Arbour Poem
Home Poem>>
Write your comment about To An Hour-glass poem by John Clare
Best Poems of John Clare