Time is a taper waning fast!
Use it, man, well whilst it doth last:
Lest burning downwards it consume away,
Before thou hast commenced the labour of the day.
Time is a pardon of a goodly soil!
Plenty shall crown thine honest toil:
But if uncultivated, rankest weeds
Shall choke the efforts of the rising seeds.
Time is a leasehold of uncertain date!
Granted to thee by everlasting fate.
Neglect not thou, ere thy short term expire,
To save thy soul from ever-burning fire.
More verses by Edward Lear
- The Courtship Of The Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo
- There Was An Old Man On The Border
- There Was An Old Man Of Thermopylae
- The Quangle Wangle's Hat
- The Akond Of Swat