“"If I cast my eyes before me, what an infinite space in which I do not exist; and if I look behind me, what a terrible procession of years in which I do not exist, and how little space I occupy in this vast abyss of time"

Like to the falling of a Starre Or as the flights of Eagles are Or like the fresh springs gawdy hew Or silver drops of morning dew Or like a wind that chafes the flood Or bubbles which on water stood Even such is man, whose borrow'd light Is straight call'd in, and pain to night

The Wind blowes out; the Bubble dies The Spring entomb'd in Autumn lies The Dew dries up; the Starre is shot The Flight is past; and Man forgot

Earth covers earth Time tryeth truth”” ~ Current 93

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