Poem August 4, 1951 Issue

THE READING ROOM CLOCK

Elizabeth K. Bridgman

The planet keeps turning;
Its turning I mark.
But what are you learning
While day rolls toward dark?

Good is unfolding—
I'm merely its clerk.
No one is holding
My hands from their work.

A right time for reaping,
A right time to plow
And to waken from sleeping.
The right time is now.

Keep to your reading
Till you know who you are.
Then go forth unheeding
Of time, as a star.

Elizabeth K. Bridgman

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