Marion Angus

On a Birthday

Time, why are you going so fast?
    I like not furious paces.
Milestones glimmer and then are past,
    White, solemn faces.

I’m coming near to Forever and Ever,
    With its flower and leaf unfalling,
Where you, poor Time, are an ancient measure,
    Fit for a dream’s recalling. 

And fain am I to turn again,
    Before this journey’s ended,
For a long, long look at the road I came,
    So rough and dark and – splendid!