Has time renewed its youth? or fearing age,
Perspiring, pants it to fulfil its stage?
Perhaps men’s fears,
And falling tears,
Oiling its wheels has caused this rapid rolling;
Or, urged along by old Creation’s groans,
And sympathizing with its piteous moans,
It flies to set their massive death-bell tolling;
When blooming Paradise shall clothe the earth,
And angels shout to heaven its second birth.