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HASTE, FLYING YEARS!

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Oct 23, 1900

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 77, No. 43.

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HASTE, FLYING YEARS!

By Mrs. L. D. Avery Stuttle

MRS. L. D. AVERY STUTTLE.
O swift, swift years! how have ye flown Since I was careless, young, and free! Ye’ve stolen the treasures once my own, And left a heritage to me,— A heritage of memory, A heritage of joy, of tears, A memory of hopes and fears,— O swift, swift years!
O silent years, how have ye flown! My nut-brown hair is faded grown, And lines of weariness and care Ye’ve written on a face once fair; Ye heed not mortal grief nor tears, O silent years!
As on Mount Nebo’s hoary peak The prophet stood in days of yore, E’en so I stand, and so I speak: “Lord, let me cross to Canaan’s shore.” But ah! ye mock my falling tears, O cruel years!
I’ve climbed the hill of life, and stand Upon its very peak to-day; I see ahead the promised land, Before, the steep and dangerous way; I may not take one backward pace, Or one past step of life retrace; But oh! the blessed haven nears, Where there shall be no grief nor tears Nor flying years.
The milestones all along the road Go whirling past like spectral forms, More grievous grows life’s heavy load, More dreaded life’s disastrous storms. The silver cord is waxing loose, The golden bowl gleams not so fair, Already in the heavens I see The tints of sunset rich and rare. But ah! th’ eternal morning nears, O hurrying years!
Roll on, roll on, ye changing years, I would not stay your headlong flight; For just ahead the day appears,— The day that knows no shades of night ’Till Christ’s triumphal car appears; Haste, flying years!