Eternal Time, that wastest without waste, That art and art not, diest, and livest still;Most slow of all, and yet of greatest haste; Both ill and good, and neither good nor ill: How can I justly praise thee, or dispraise? Dark are thy nights, but bright and clear thy days.
Both free and scarce, thou giv'st and tak'st again; Thy womb that all doth breed, is tomb to all;What so by thee hath life, by thee is slain; From thee do all things rise, by thee they fall: Constant, inconstant, moving, standing still; Was, Is, Shall be, do thee both breed and kill.
I lose thee, while I seek to find thee out; The farther off, the more I follow thee;The faster hold, the greater cause of doubt; Was, Is, I know; but Shall, I cannot see. All things by thee are measur'd; thou, by none: All are in thee; thou, in thyself alone.
