Finis Coronat Opus

Here upon life’s journey forward  (Long and hard it often seems), I travel roads that lead me toward A city great, where sunlight gleams. While pressing on, a presence lingers In my shadow dusky, pale, Hind’ring step, and reaching fingers, Bringing weakness and despair. For Pain my dark companion is; I yet through life must hard strive To press on, firmly, to the bliss Of yonder city’s golden shine.

Yon’ jagged crevice, looming dark With shaded earth below, A cravass deep the mountain parts,  Earth’s caverns dim to show. Deep runs a river through the rock, It rushes through the trees On mountain’s crags, and shall not stop, Like winter’s stormy breeze. On, swift, it charges, deaf’ning loud O’er stones on river’s bed To plunge down cliff in palest shroud To pool at valley’s edge. Long years the cataract falls fast, O’er rocky face of flint; For Time’s long march through decades past Will not these waters stint.

The sea! the sea! Ah, how it ebbs with fading light As herald of the coming night Spreads wings of dusk above. The sea! the sea! Her tide retreats from pebbled shore, And catches moonlit gleam of lore Long whispered in the past. The sea! the sea! Soon flows again the brackish tide At touch of gold in eastern sky To greet the dawn anew. The sea! the sea! Long ages past has it been so, The passage of the ebb and flow Marks season, lifetime, day. The sea! the sea! Calls now to gaze upon the shore Which, beaten back since days of yore, Draws ancient bound’ries new. The sea! the sea! Though subtle yet her touch may be, Her surf has written history O’er years and decades long. The sea! the sea! May upright men then take this, so: That nations rise and peoples grow With patience and resolve.

Time presses on, through days and years, Quite heedless of all mortal fears;  He has a task, an end in sight, And so he journeys through the night. But night and day affect him not: Their stain of age can never blot The robes of Time, for he is far From reach of pain and mark of scar. What tales could Father Time relate, What songs of bravery and fate,  ‘Ere yet his march is past and done, Emblazoned in the dying Sun?