Swiftly we float upon time's tide
Adown the stream of years.
Sometimes past hills of joy we glide,
Sometimes through vales of tears.
Age follows youth, which, ere we know,
Has vanished like a dream,
And takes its glamour from the glow
Of mem'ry's silvery gleam.
There is no halt; and more and more
There seems an open sea
Reaching us with its ceaseless roar--
It is eternity.
There is one Pilot that we need,
One who can safely steer,
One who at heaven's court can plead,
And all our journey cheer.
'Tis Jesus Christ; and all who see
In him the truth, the way,
Are in possession of the key
To heaven's eternal day.
Nancy Glass, "No other".