Time is falling fine-grain dust
That gathers underfoot

And must be ever trodden down
Else turn to suffocating soot.

The lungs of those who cease to move
From worldly long exhaustion

Freeze up with gently longing groan
For some hope to warm the frost in,

And those of younger, stronger heart
With old and weathered faces

Who spent their years in diligence
To learn of all life’s races

Gaze back at them in sympathy
Though time steadfastly separates

Those who would love and who would sing
From those who hesitate.