Page:The town down the river; a book of poems.djvu/142

 He cannot close again the doors That now are shattered for our sake; He cannot answer for the floors We crowd on, or for walls that shake; He cannot wholly undertake The cure of our immunity; He cannot hold the stars, or make Of seven years a century.

So Time will give us what we earn Who flaunt the handful for the whole, And leave us all that we may learn Who read the surface for the soul; And we'll be steering to the goal, For we have said so to our sons: When we who ride can pay the toll, Time humors the far-seeing ones.