The Indian Advocate
Ml AY, 1902.
Amid the rushes preen and slight,
Beneath the willows tall and strong,
Wave after wave, so fast and bright,
The river runs along.
I see it flow; away, away,
Along the same broad, even track,
The waves sweep onward night and day,
But never one comes back.
And thus it is, time passes by,
Nor ever stops for joy or pain;
Thus years, and clays, and moments fly,
But never come back again.
The shadows on the river fall,
The wave reflects them every one,
The bending rush, the poplar tall,
But carries witlf it none.
And every virtue, every crime,
Our thoughts, our deeds, our feelings, cast
A shadow on the stream of time,
As it goes rushing past.
Then, as we watch the river flow,
Think we how time doth ever glide,
And pray we that our lives may throw
Bright shadows on the tide.
xml | txt