WHAT IS TIME?
(David Harsha, "Come to the Savior")
Time is a stream which is rapidly bearing us all to the boundless ocean of eternity!
Let us ask again, with all seriousness, WHAT IS TIME?
I asked an aged man, a man of cares, Wrinkled, and curved, and white with hoary hairs; "Time is the warp of life," he said, "Oh 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 flowed, "Time sowed the seed we reap in this abode!"
I asked a dying sinner, before 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 bids us for Eternity prepare.
I asked the Seasons, in their annual round, Which beautify or desolate the ground; And they replied (no oracle more wise), "Tis folly's blank, and wisdom's highest prize!"
I asked a lost spirit, but oh, the shriek That pierced my soul! I shudder while I speak! It cried, "a particle! a speck! a mite Of endless years, duration infinite!"
I asked my Bible and it said, "Time is the present hour, the past is fled; Live! live today! tomorrow never yet On any living 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 a mighty angel, who shall stand One foot on sea, and one on solid land; "By Heaven," he cried, "I swear the mystery's o'er; "Time was," he cried, "but Time shall be no more!"
Let us ask again, with all seriousness, WHAT IS TIME?
Time is the path to GLORY, or the path to HELL!
(David Harsha, "Come to the Savior")
Time is a stream which is rapidly bearing us all to the boundless ocean of eternity!
Let us ask again, with all seriousness, WHAT IS TIME?
I asked an aged man, a man of cares, Wrinkled, and curved, and white with hoary hairs; "Time is the warp of life," he said, "Oh 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 flowed, "Time sowed the seed we reap in this abode!"
I asked a dying sinner, before 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 bids us for Eternity prepare.
I asked the Seasons, in their annual round, Which beautify or desolate the ground; And they replied (no oracle more wise), "Tis folly's blank, and wisdom's highest prize!"
I asked a lost spirit, but oh, the shriek That pierced my soul! I shudder while I speak! It cried, "a particle! a speck! a mite Of endless years, duration infinite!"
I asked my Bible and it said, "Time is the present hour, the past is fled; Live! live today! tomorrow never yet On any living 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 a mighty angel, who shall stand One foot on sea, and one on solid land; "By Heaven," he cried, "I swear the mystery's o'er; "Time was," he cried, "but Time shall be no more!"
Let us ask again, with all seriousness, WHAT IS TIME?
Time is the path to GLORY, or the path to HELL!
El tiempo es una secuencia que está teniendo rápidamente Todos nosotros al océano infinito de la eternidad! Debemos volver a preguntar, con toda seriedad, Lo que es el tiempo? Me preguntó a un hombre de edad, un hombre de cuidados, Arrugado, y curvas, en blanco y con hoary pelos; "El tiempo es la urdimbre de la vida", dijo, "Oh decir, El joven, la feria, de los homosexuales, a tejer bien! " Le pregunté a la antigua, venerables muertos, Sabios que escribió, y los guerreros que sangró; Desde la fría tumba un hueco rumor corrido, "El tiempo sembró la semilla que cosechan en esta morada!" Pregunté a morir pecador, antes de la marea De la vida han dejado sus venas: "Tiempo!" Él contestó; "¡He perdido! Ah, eso el tesoro!" Y murió. He pedido el sol de oro y plata esferas, Estos brillantes cronómetros de días y años; Ellos le contestaron, "El tiempo no es sino el reflejo de un meteoro", Ofertas y nos preparará para la eternidad. He pedido la Seasons, en su ronda anual, Que embellecer o desolado el terreno; Y ellos respondieron (no hay más sabio oráculo), "Tis blanco de la locura, y la sabiduría del más alto premio!" Le pregunté a la pérdida de un espíritu, pero ¡oh, el grito Que atravesó mi alma! Me estremezco mientras hablo! No lloró, "una partícula! Un grano! Un ácaro De interminables años, la duración infinita! " Le pregunté a mi Biblia y le dijo, "El tiempo es la hora presente, el pasado está huido; Live! Viven hoy! Mañana nunca todavía En cualquier ser vivo o conjunto pasó! " Old Padre me preguntó a sí mismo en la última hora; Pero en un momento en que voló rápidamente pasado - Su carro fue una nube, la viewless viento Su silencioso corceles, que no dejó huella detrás. Le pregunté a un poderoso ángel, que se mantendrá a Un pie en el mar, y uno en la tierra sólida; "Por el cielo", gritó, "Juro el misterio del o'er; "El tiempo es", gritó, "pero el tiempo no será más!" Debemos volver a preguntar, con toda seriedad, ¿QUÉ ES EL TIEMPO? El tiempo es el camino de la GLORY, o el camino de la HELL!
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