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Thoughts on Time
Stroke onward watchful time until you run though your endless course. Until last of all your greed by yourself be consumed, glutting yourself on what you, time, engluts, which is no more than what is perishable. At that hour you shall not be able to call on the chronometer's passing tick-tock for consolation, whose speed is a headlong plunging pace. So much is our loss and so little is your gain. Both wonderful and dreadful you have entombed. You wander onward, keeping your natural pace with anxious eternity, while never to meet serenity nor to find a place in which to rest. What is ours in this orb is no more than merely a mortal birth. At which hour comes one's time of rapture long eternity shall greet that rapture, it to each of us, with an individual embrace. A final resting place each of us shall find. Then, it will be as if sea waters had receded and life had dried out. Then one shall reside in a place where everything is sincere and valorous. Our heavenly guided essentia shall soar. And there one shall remain. And one shall be with the perfectly eternal, with unity, veracity, and love, and these shall shine on, on and on, forever. Ever shining about the supreme throne of He whose glad-making sight alone gives grace. Then, proprietorship and all this earthly vanity thereupon shall be jilted and shaken off
