Here you will find the Poem Running On! of poet William Henry Ogilvie
The dusk is down on the river meadows, The moon is climbing above the fir, The lane is crowded with creeping shadows, The gorse is only a distant blur; The last of the light is almost gone, But hark! They're running! They're running on ! The count of the years is steadily growing; The Old give way to the eager Young; Far on the hill is the horn still blowing, Far on the steep are the hounds still strung. Good men follow the good men gone; And hark! They're running! They're running on!