On Time

January 22, 2010

Poetry

Fly envious Time, till thou run out thy race,
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping howrs,
Whose speed is but the heavy plummets pace;
And glut thy self with what thy womb devours,
Which is no more then what is false and vain,
And meerly mortal dross;
So little is our loss,
So little is thy gain.
For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb’d,
And last of all thy greedy self consum’d,
Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss
With an individual kiss;
And Joy shall overtake us as a flood,
When every thing that is sincerely good
And perfectly divine,
When Truth, and Peace, and Love shall ever shine
About the supreme Throne
Of him t’ whose happy-making sight alone,
When once our heav’nly-guided soul shall clime,
Then all this Earthy grosnes quit,
Attir’d with Stars, we shall for ever sit,
     Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee O Time.
 
-John Milton
 

In Christ, our sin is forever entomb’d within time forgettable.  This is one of my favorite poems simply for the way Milton structured our hope in the linear, epic passing of time.  “Fly” positively states our expectation of eternity.  Our attitude towards beginning heaven.  But with regards to our hesistancy to fully run our course, where is the reasoning for being anxious for Truth, Peace, and Love at the end of our race?  None of us desire for the razing of our youth, but as Christians we are in possession of an eternal youth.  One not to be feared, but embraced.  We must remember, though, the pace does not change; and the plummet never fails to descend.  God is the timekeeper.

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