The Time Is Come Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

The time is come.
The time is come
To lay my magic wand
To rise and take
Off my gold crown
The time is come.

Ay! Ay! Now I
Am enough honest
For me comes
The withered hand of Age
The dark of Night
Follows the reddening dusk
And paints with black
The azure eye-lids of the dreaming skies.

The time is come.

Already hear I
The seething sea
In one vast ocean surge coming and going
And on the heights
The light-house turns and turns
Over the dark sea-waves it turns and turns.

And in the soul
The longing and the yearning now
More, more than ever grow:
The breezes turn and come
Unceasing is their flow
The insensate sub-conscious
Switches its magic wand, turns on its switch
The breezes turn and come
And I
I
Dream restless with my open eyes
No longer the dark night
Will see my face be dark with sadness
Nor fear pale my cheeks
Nor ill or thought
Will longer throb my heart:

But now
In the long night I sail voyage begun
On the long rolling ocean and the breeze
Fans continues my insensate dream.

And travel I and yet still think me stopped.