Time

What marvelous things there are

To save us "moderns" time!

A score of gadgets in the home

To rout the dirt and grime

Or speed the gentle tasks

Of kitchen cookery --

Such things as baking cakes

Or brewing tea.

Whisk! the job is done,

Ah, very soon

Our lady will be gone

The afternoon.

The water for the master's

Morning shave

Is ready in a trice.

He saves ten minutes

On his beard alone.

Ten golden minutes --

Things are pretty nice

With such efficiency

Within and out the home.

For think of all the time he saves, 

Once in the swivol chair --

The buzzer and the telephone

Both waiting there

To set a hundred people

On the run.

You'd almost say that

Modern life is regimented fun.

Time . . . my how we save the time!

A modern motor car

To catapult us over dizzy miles

to where we wish to be

From where we are . . .

An hour saved, just there,

Each blessed day.

A wonderful saving of time,

I'd say!

But time for what?

Time for getting in a rut 

Of haste!

Ah, I recall that in the olden days

We knew no wast

Of time.

Yet there was time enough

To walk across the hill

And chat a while

With some poor neighbor

Who was ill;

Or time to wander through

Our sunny field

Where blessed solitude

Was half the yield.

Yes, yes, I know --

The advocates of time

Say time is money.

But in the olden days,

When money didn't mean so much

That creed had sounded funny.

So take an hour of your time --

Though time be growing late --

To hear the frantic stride of other men,

The while you contemplate

The worth of time!

(Copyright, 1940)