Time And The Soldier

HOW slow you move, old Time; Walk a bit faster! Old fool, I’m not your slave.... Beauty’s my master!

You hold me for a space.... What are you, Time? A ghost, a thing of thought, An easy rhyme.

Some day I shall again, For all your scheming, See Severn valley clouds Like banners streaming.

And walk in Cranham lanes, By Maisemore go.... But, fool, decrepit Fool, You are SO SLOW!!!