Death, Chance and Time

Fly envious Time till thou run out thy race,
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours,
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,
With 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.

I really admire people who have faith like this. It doesn't come easy these days. Time flies, and it's back to school tomorrow. I'm not triumphing over Death, Chance or Time any time soon. It's the "Earthy grosnes" that I'm stuck with. I must admit that the idea of forever sitting doesn't seem like much fun. I do like to move around occasionaly, so even if I was wrapped in stars, I suppose I'd like to move around a bit more than that. [disclaimer--- I'm not a religious guy, I just love religious poetry sometimes.]