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The
clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will
stop
At late or early hour.
To lose one's
wealth is sad indeed,
To lose one's health is more,
To lose one's soul is such a
loss
That no man can restore.
The present
only is our own,
So Live, Love, toil with a will
--
Place no faith in 'Tomorrow' --
For the clock may then be still.
Robert H. Smith
©1932-1982
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Other
Harbor Nest Poems
and
Branches of
WrensWorld.com
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"Somewhere
In Time"
Performed
by Margi Harrell
WrensByDesign/WrensWorld.com©2004
Sharing
love with a poem.
 "His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me."
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