Poetry – As Time Glides On

I wear not the purple of earth-born kings,
Nor the stately ermine of lordly things;
But monarch and courtier though great they be,
Must fall from their glory, and bend to me.
My sceptre is gemless; yet who can say
They will not come under its mighty sway?
Ye may learn who I am,—there’s the passing chime
And the dial to herald me—Old King Time!

— Eliza Cook

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