Poetry

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Nov 16, 1916

The Time is Short

I SOMETIMES feel the thread of life is slender, And soon for me life's labor will be wrought; Then grows my heart to other hearts more tender— The time, the time is short.

A shepherd’s tent of reeds and flowers decaying, The night wind soon will crumble into naught; So seems, my life, for some rude blast delaying; The time, the time is short.

Arouse, my soul! the long-lost time redeeming; Sow thou the seeds of better deeds and thought; Light other lamps while yet thy lamp, is burning— The time, the time is short.

Think of the good thou mightst have done while brightly The sun to thee life's choicest seasons brought; Hours lost to God in pleasures passing lightly, The time, the time is short.

Think of the drooping eyes thou mightst have lifted To see the good that Heaven to thee hath taught, The unhelped wrecks that past life's bark have drifted— The time, the time is short.

Think of the feet that fail by misdirection, Of noblest souls to loss and ruin brought, Because their lives were barren of affection,— The time, the time is short.

— Anonymous.