Autumn And Winter, Summer And Spring - Hath Time No Other Song To Sing? Weary We Grow Of The Changeless Tune - June - December, December - June! Time, Like A Bird, Hath But One Song, One Way To Build, Like A Bird Hath He; Thus Hath He Built So Long, So Long, Thus Hath He Sung - Ah Me! Time, Like A Spider, Knows, Be Sure, One Only Wile, Though He Seems So Wise: Death Is His Web, And Love His Lure, And You And I His Flies. 'Love!' He Sings In The Morning Clear, 'Love! Love! Love!' And You Never Hear How, Under His Breath, He Whispers, 'Death! Death! Death!' Yet Time - 'Tis The Strangest Thing Of All - Knoweth Not The Sense Of The Words He Saith; Eternity Taught Him His Parrot-Call Of 'Love And Death.' Year After Year Doth The Old Man Climb The Mountainous Knees Of Eternity, But Eternity Telleth Nothing To Time - It May Not Be.