Edward Herbert

(3 March 1583 – 20 August 1648 / England)

To his Watch, When He Could Not Sleep


Uncessant Minutes, whil'st you move
 you tell
The time that tells our life,  which
 though it run
Never so fast or farr,  you'r new
 begun
Short steps shall overtake;  for though life well

May scape his own Account, it shall not yours,
You are Death's Auditors, that both divide
And summ what ere that life inspir'd endures
Past a beginning, and through you we bide

The doom of Fate, whose unrecall'd Decree
You date, bring, execute; making what's new,
Ill and good, old, for as we die in you,
You die in Time, Time in Eternity.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004
Edited: Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: fate, death, time, life, running

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (To his Watch, When He Could Not Sleep by Edward Herbert )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Beginning The Day, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  2. Split Second, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  3. It is no surprise, Dr PJ Raj Kamal
  4. Spiritual Life, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  5. I Saw Planets, Naveed Akram
  6. Saviour By The Road Side, Juwon Daniel
  7. went a walk, lee fones
  8. The Moon's Present Woe, cheryl davis miller
  9. Funeral, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
  10. Mount Patsy Land, Richard Thripp

Poem of the Day

poet Sir Walter Scott

The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae,
And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day;
Then gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
Gather, gather, gather Grigalach!

...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]