Jumping o'er times,
Turning the accomplishment of many years
Into an hourglass.
SHAKS.: _Henry V.,_ Act i., Chorus.
Years following years, steal something every day;
At last they steal us from ourselves away.
POPE: Satire vi., Line 72.
I sigh not over vanished years,
But watch the years that hasten by.
Look, how they come,--a mingled crowd
Of bright and dark, but rapid days.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT: _Lapse of Time._
None would live past years again,
Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain.
DRYDEN: _Aurengzebe,_ Act iv., Sc. 1.