We all like motion Why not grow to feel
Smooth-rolling Time beneath us, and enjoy
The steady, quiet, ceaseless flow of years;
The whirr of flying seconds; the swift beat
Of minutes as they pass; the beaded days,
Thick-starred with Sundays regular and swift;
The moon-set months, fast wheeling up the sky;
The seasons opening and closing calm,
Year after year in long processional;
Even to feel the heaving centuries
Wheel on beneath us, slow, but moving still?