THE FLYING WHEEL
by: Katharine Tynan Hinkson
- HEN I was
young the days were long,
- Oh, long the days when I was young:
- So long from morn to evenfall
- As they would never end at all.
- Now I grow old Time flies, alas!
- I watch the years and seasons pass.
- Time turns him with his fingers thin
- A wheel that whirls while it doth spin.
- There is no time to take ones ease,
- For to sit still and be at peace:
- Oh, whirling wheel of Time, be still,
- Let me be quiet if you will!
- Yet still it turns so giddily,
- So fast the years and seasons fly,
- Dazed with the noise and speed I run
- And stay me on the Changeless One.
- I stay myself on Him who stays
- Ever the same through nights and days:
- The One Unchangeable for aye,
- That was and will be: the one Stay,
- Oer whom Eternity will pass
- But as an image in a glass;
- To whom a million years are nought,--
- I stay myself on a great Thought.
- I stay myself on the great Quiet
- After the noises and the riot;
- As in a garnished chamber sit
- Far from the tumult of the street.
- Oh, wheel of Time, turn round apace!
- But I have found a resting-place.
- You will not trouble me again
- In the great peace where I attain.
MORE POEMS BY KATHARINE TYNAN HINKSON
"The Flying Wheel" is
reprinted from The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse.
Ed. D. H. S. Nicholson and A. H. E. Lee. Oxford: The Clarendon