Time! on whose arbitrary wing
 The varying hours must flag or fly,
Whose tardy winter, fleeting spring,
 But drag or drive us on to die---
Hail thou! who on my birth bestowed
 Those boons to all that know thee known;
Yet better I sustain thy load,
 For now I bear the weight alone.
I would not one fond heart should share
 The bitter moments thou hast given;
And pardon thee---since thou couldst spare
 All that I loved, to peace or Heaven.
To them be joy or rest---on me
 Thy future ills shall press in vain;
I nothing owe but years to thee,
 A debt already paid in pain.
Yet even that pain was some relief;
 It felt, but still forgot thy power:
The active agony of grief
 Retards, but never counts the hour.
In joy I've sighed to think thy flight
 Would soon subside from swift to slow;
Thy cloud could overcast the light,
 But could not add a night to Woe;
For then, however drear and dark,
 My soul was suited to thy sky;
One star alone shot forth a spark
 To prove thee---not Eternity.
That beam hath sunk---and now thou art
 A blank---a thing to count and curse
Through each dull tedious trifling part,
 Which all regret, yet all rehearse.
One scene even thou canst not deform---
 The limit of thy sloth or speed
When future wanderers bear the storm
 Which we shall sleep too sound to heed.
And I can smile to think how weak
 Thine efforts shortly shall be shown,
When all the vengeance thou canst wreak
 Must fall upon---a nameless stone.