Before The Heartless Time Designs To Run Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Before the heartless Time designs to run
His frosty hand over my heart’s red blood
And his white scythe a frozen river make
Where before coursed the warmness of red blood
I will and must bethink myself
To make successor of my labor’s wealth
And in him and his seed my labor will
With every generation’s turn revive
As doth the Spring after the Winter’s frost
So doth my blood in my seed revive
And every generation will unthaw
The blasts of the cold hands of heartless Time
And by green lush new-born Springs it replace:
Which seeing Time hath cursed his fate
And went unseen in a cold mire to drown