speed bonnie boat

a song that catches us with its fine tune
we hear the words and then we do not know
how they fit in our minds now seem too slow
we need at once this undergrowth to prune
to shape the space wherein we may commune
it's time to halt the movement to and fro
to damn the stream in each way halt the flow
the time for pausing cannot come too soon
a time to sing and then a time to shout
a time to weep and then they say to crow
a time to dance and then a time to creep
we've got our proper times we cannot flout
the proper order of the high and low
what matters is that there'll be time to sleep