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But in my heart I always know Time’s wingèd chariot moves too slow; And yonder all before us lie, Valleys of vast uncannity.

How could you set out a picnic while time’s winged chariot was bearing down on you?

Nor were her characters deaf to the rumble of time’s winged chariot: Anne Elliot’s vain father, Sir Walter, entertains a theatrical horror of aging.

There’s a clear sense that Earth itself can hear “Time’s winged chariot hurrying near.”

Sensing “time’s winged chariot hurrying near,” as the poet had it, President Barack Obama is using every hour left in his presidency to ensure that Donald Trump will not erase it all.