WASTED TIME

Alone in the dark and silent night,

With the heavy thought of a vanished year,

When evil deeds come back to sight,

And good deeds rise with a welcome cheer;

Alone with the specters of the past,

That come with the old year’s dying chime,

The shadow of Wasted Time.

The chances of happiness cast away,

The opportunities never sought,

The slow advance and the backward step

In the rugged path we have striven to climb;

How they furrow the brow and pale the lip,

When we have walked with Wasted Time.

What are we now?  What had we been

Had we hoarded time as the miser’s gold,

Striving our mood of good to win,

Thro’ the summer’s heat and the winter’s cold

Shrinking from naught that the world could do

Fearing naught but the touch of crime;

Laboring, Struggling all seasons through,

And knowing no Wasted Time.

Who shall recall the vanished years;

Who shall hold back the ebbing tide

That leaves us remorse and shame and tears,

And washes away all things beside?

Who shall give us the strength even now,

To leave forever this holiday rhyme,

To shake off this sloth from heart and brow.

And battle with Wasted Time.

The years that pass not again,

The things that die no life renew

But e’en from the rust of the cankering chain,

A golden truth is glimmering through;

That to him who learns from errors past,

And turns away with strength sublime,

And maketh each outdo the last,

This is no Wasted Time.

Title:  WASTED TIME
Author:
Location:
Year: 
Media:  Newspaper article, glued to Page 8 of  the Ledger of Captain W. B. Blair

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