#poem #poetryreading #time #endoftime #motivationmonday #duluth #asmr #asmrreading #asmrvideo #whatistime #williammarsden
I ASKED an aged man, with hoary
adjective / hohr-ee / hoariness / hoarier / hoariest whitish-grey from aging There is not really any courage at all in attacking hoary or antiquated things, any more than in offering to fight one’s grandmother. The really courageous man hairs,
Wrinkled and curved with worldly cares:
“Time is the warp of life,” said he; “O tell
The young, the fair, the gay, to weave it well!”
I asked the ancient, venerable dead,
Sages who wrote, and warriors who bled:
From the cold grave a hollow murmur
a soft and low sound : FOUND IN : Land of the Moon - GLOSSARY CARDS flowed,
“Time sowed the seed we reap in this abode!”
I asked a dying sinner, ere the tide
Of life had left his veins : “Time !” he replied;
“I’ve lost it! ah, the treasure!” and he died.
I asked the golden sun and silver spheres,
Those bright chronometers of days and years:
They answered, “Time is but a meteor glare,”
And bade me for eternity prepare.
I asked the Seasons, in their annual round,
Which beautify or desolate
adjective / des-uh-lit / desolated / desolating / desolately / desolateness / desolater / desolation (Atmospheric) grimly barren, deserted, or deprived of inhabitants I have faith in these desolate times
A score to the sound of the feet the ground;
And they replied (no oracle more wise)
” ‘Tis Folly’s blank, and Wisdom’s highest prize!”
I asked a spirit lost—but O the shriek
That pierced my soul! I shudder while I speak.
It cried, “A particle! a speck! a mite
Of endless years, duration infinite!”
Of things inanimate my dial I
Consulted, and it made me this reply:
“Time is the season fair of living well,
The path of glory or the path of hell.”
I asked my Bible, and methinks it said,
“Time is the present hour, the past has fled;
Live! live to-day ! to-morrow never yet
On any human being rose or set.”
I asked old Father Time himself at last;
But in a moment he flew swiftly past:
His chariot was a cloud, the viewless wind
His noiseless steeds, which left no trace behind.
I asked the mighty angel who shall stand
One foot on sea and one on solid land:
“Mortal!” he cried, “the mystery now is o’er;
Time was, Time is, but Time shall be no more!”
Reading Selection:
World-Strangeness by William Watson. (1955). In E. Markham (Ed.), Anthology of the World’s Best Poems (Memorial Ed., Vol. V, p. 2504). New York: Wm.H. Wise & Co. Co.
Location:
Duluth, GA, US
34°00’08.7″N 84°08’43.5″W
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