Past Hours

Two angels have them in eternal keeping.
  He that beside the deep vaults of the past
  Stands to receive the treasures, that with weeping
  And lamentation into them men cast,
  Forgetting that alone they hold that fast
  Which to his marble storehouse they commit;
  And He, that spirit bright and terrible,
  Who at the feet of God doth thoughtful sit,
  Upon whose scroll, in lines of flame are writ
  Each hour of every day of those who dwell
  Upon this earth: He hath those days and hours,
  Whom, as they smiled on us, we counted ours;
  And who, when that great history appears,
  Shall make us answer, as if we were theirs.