Heaven’s chimes are slow, but sure to strike at last

Heaven’s chimes are slow, but sure to strike at last:
Earth’s sands are slow, but surely dropping thro’:
And much we have to suffer, much to do,
Before the time be past.

Chimes that keep time are neither slow nor fast:
Not many are the numbered sands nor few:
A time to suffer, and a time to do,
And then the time is past.