Thoughts On My Birthday
How swift my years speed on! Thou, hoary thief,
Hast stol’n another from the scanty hoard
That earth, though fav’ring, could at best afford!
Yet, if I first but turn in fond belief
To what has ever filled my cup for me
With purest blessings, poured from holy deeps,
Then thou, O Time, from thy great storehouse keeps,
Hast shown me something of Eternity!
Thou old man’s terror and young woman’s dread!
Think’st thou to fright me with thy fitful beams,
That leave me barren of all else but dreams
And God’s high love? This last alone will shed
Such light supernal on my path below
That Pleasure’s best shall beckon as I go!
William Blocksidge, Songs o’ the South, London: Watts, 1908, p. 53
fav’ring = (vernacular) favouring
hast = (archaic) have
hoary = a descriptive term for someone or something which is old or ancient; someone with grey or white hair; something grey or white in colour
stol’n = (vernacular) stolen
think’st = (archaic) think (also spelt: thinkest)
thou = (archaic) you
thy = (archaic) your