a grain of sand

the universe is measured in one hand

that's all we know and all within each mind

a sight of this is given to the blind

there is no boundary to this command

we aren't allowed to think nor to demand

instead we're set to work and bid to find

the simple answers of the older kind

and set them out in manner plain and bland

this is the working of the true machine

which we have built in the familiar way

so we are told neither to faint nor fear

nor to be worried for what might have been

as this is passage of another day

and we are sailing through a better year

just a mood

we reach the limit of the old so soon

a single word and then the bird must fly

the sun cannot be held for long at noon

 

each child seems happy with a toy balloon

but when the string is let go then they cry

we reach the limit of the old so soon

 

you might have called each smile a pleasant boon

and not have noticed time as it passed by

the sun cannot be held for long at noon

 

for a short while the instruments might croon

their sound a little pleasure should supply

we reach the limit of the old so soon

 

the butterfly breaks out of its cocoon

appears in beauty and then has to die

the sun cannot be held too long at noon

 

i for my part am just one more buffoon

here to amuse not pleasing to the eye

we reach the limit of the old so soon

the sun cannot be held for long at noon