No Time More Fleeting

Some hours just crawl by,
And other years, with swiftness go;
But there’s no time more fleeting than
To watch our children grow
For every hope we ever had
On them is concentrated;
Their sorrows become ours, and each
New joy leaves us elated
And one day, their small voices change
And become something older;
We find new lines upon our face,
They grow a little colder,
And finally, they walk out the door.
To raise them was our task —
A few more minutes of them small –
Is that too much to ask?
I look now at an empty room
Where once we all would laze;
There is no time more fleeting,
Than those few,

So precious


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