Just as of old! The world rolls on and on;
The day dies into night — night into dawn —
Dawn into dusk — through centuries untold. —
Just as of old.

Time loiters not. The river ever flows,
Its brink of white with blossoms or with snows;
Its tide or warm with spring or winter cold:
Just as of old.

Lo! where is the beginning, where the end
Of living, loving, longing? Listen , friend! —
God answers with a silence of pure gold —
Just as of old.