Life's Hours Hours are links in the chain of time Hike colored beads on endless thread. From the unknown they come, and pass Into the kingdom of the dead. They are not of the same design. And vary in their shape and hue, And those that are the fairest come In our youth when our world is new. Some are red like a damask rose, Some match the azure sky above; But those that pass to ne’er return, Are born of true and mutual love. The drab and gloomy linger on To bring ns gloom till they are done. While those of beauty speed away Before they seem to have begun. Some quickly pass, and are forgot While others stay in memory Forever, like a gleaming light, 'Fill time becomes eternity. L. 1). Whitaker

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