Not in time's springtime rang the bell,
but when the fallen stars had clipped their pow'rs;
reborn in wrath, for time was short,
and hung themselves upon redemption's thread.
Death, as a most unwilling slave
had bargained with the face of God and lost;
had found itself in God's own face,
and Death had reaped itself in time and space.
Go spell death backwards; in the glass
where you and I have spent our hours past,
the past shall reckon with events,
for God is moving in the present tense.