Time and the Soldier

How slow you move, old Time;
Walk a bit faster!
Old fool, I’m not your slave....
Beauty’s my master!

You hold me for a space....
What are you, Time?
A ghost, a thing of thought,
An easy rhyme.

Some day I shall again,
For all your scheming,
See Severn valley clouds
Like banners streaming.

And walk in Cranham lanes,
By Maisemore go....
But, fool, decrepit Fool,
You are SO SLOW!!!