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Eternity! thou pleasing dreadful thought! Through what variety of untried being, Through what new scenes and changes must we pass!

Then gazing up 'mid the dim pillars high, The foliaged marble forest where ye lie, Hush, ye will say, it is eternity! This is the glimmering verge of heaven, and there The columns of the heavenly palaces.

The created world is but a small parenthesis in eternity.

Eternity forbids thee to forget.

Nothing is there to come, and nothing past, But an eternal Now does always last.

Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!

If we consider eternity, into that time never entered; eternity is not an everlasting flux of time, but time is as a short parenthesis in a long period; and eternity had been the same as it is, though time had never been.

I have just got a new theory of eternity.

The sum total of all sums total is eternal .

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.

That golden key That opes the palace of eternity.

a moment standing still for ever.

This speck of life in time's great wilderness This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas, The past, the future, two eternities!

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.

The time will come when every change shall cease, This quick revolving wheel shall rest in peace: No summer then shall glow, not winter freeze; Nothing shall be to come, and nothing past, But an eternal now shall ever last.

Those spacious regions where our fancies roam, Pain'd by the past, expecting ills to come, In some dread moment. by the fates assign'd, Shall pass away, nor leave a rack behind; And Time's revolving wheels shall lose at last The speed that spins the future and the past: And, sovereign of an undisputed throne, Awful eternity shall reign alone.

Eternity gives nothing back of what one leaves out of the minutes.

Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of eternity.

The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame Over his living head like Heaven is bent, An early but enduring monument, Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song In sorrow.

In time there is no present, In eternity no future, In eternity no past.