Times of grace

When sleep made good its claim I found again
The hill of dreams that first I climbed and topped
When youth was my estate, and childhood past,
And manhood still had not imposed its cares.
What was to come remained as yet unknown,
And no direction ruled by preference.

How slowly flowed the course of ample time,
How quickly moved the pulse from rest to haste!
Years were encompassed in a summer's breadth
And nought was preordained save endless joy.

But then the even tenor was upset,
The fateful choices clamoured to be made,
And what was left of that once timeless space
Were memories recalling times of grace.