Ovid should have been a Viking.
Now, since the sea's great surges sweep me on, all canvas spread, hear me!
In all creation nothing endures, all is an endless flux.
Each wandering shape a pilgrim passing by, and time itself, glides on in ceaseless flow.
A rolling stream, and streams can never stay, nor lightfoot hours,
as wave is driven by wave, and each pursued, pursues the wave ahead.
So time flies on and follows. Flies and follows always, forever new.
What was before is left behind. What never was is now...Ovid, "The Doctrines of Pythagoras," The Metamorphosis