If I could turn each moment to an hour, then
Each hour a full day may become.
Then days, a month's life each can be counted when
Those months, a year for each it would be won.
Thus, might I achieve the goal that's trumped the sage:
The years to flow on without end.
And yet, as these words spill out upon the page,
A second's passing still have I to bend.
Each hour a full day may become.
Then days, a month's life each can be counted when
Those months, a year for each it would be won.
Thus, might I achieve the goal that's trumped the sage:
The years to flow on without end.
And yet, as these words spill out upon the page,
A second's passing still have I to bend.
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