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To his Watch, When He Could Not Sleep

Uncessant Minutes, whil'st you move
 you tell
The time that tells our life,  which
 though it run
Never so fast or farr,  you'r new
 begun
Short steps shall overtake;  for though life well

May scape his own Account, it shall not yours,
You are Death's Auditors, that both divide
And summ what ere that life inspir'd endures
Past a beginning, and through you we bide

The doom of Fate, whose unrecall'd Decree
You date, bring, execute; making what's new,
Ill and good, old, for as we die in you,
You die in Time, Time in Eternity.

poem by Edward Herbert
Added by Poetry Lover
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