But, alas! no pain assuaging, That would but increase thy grief; If kind Death still not its raging, Granting thee a kind relief. TIME. O! Time, as thou on rapid wings Encirclest earth's extensive ball, Fatal thy flight to worldly things, Thy darts cut down and ruin all. A cloud from us thy form conceals; Enwrapt its gloomy folds among, Thou mov'st eternity's vast wheels, And with them movest us along. The swift-winged days thou urgest on, With them life's sand beholdest pass, And when our transient hours are gone, Thou smilest at their exhausted glass. Against Time's look, when he but frowns, All strength, and skill, and power, are vain; He withers laurels, wreaths, and crowns, And breaks the matrimonial chain. As Time moves onward, far and wide His restless scythe mows all away, All feels his breath, on every side All sinks, resistless, to decay. To youth's gay bloom and beauty's charms Mercy alike stern Time denies, Like vernal flowers o'erwhelmed by storms, Whate'er he looks at droops and dies. Huge piles from earth his mighty hand Sweeps to oblivion's empire dread, What villages, what cities grand, What kingdoms sink beneath his tread! Heroes in vain, his gauntlet cast, Oppose his stern and ruthless sway, Nor armies brave, nor mountains vast, Can thwart the devastator's way. Thought strives, but fruitless, to pursue The traces of Time's rapid flight, Scarce Fancy gains one transient view, He disappears and sinks in night. Think, thou whom folly's dazzling glare Of worldly vanities may blind, Time frowns and all will disappear, Nor gold a vestige leave behind. And thou whom fierce distresses sting, Thou by calamities low bowed, Weep not, for Time the day will bring That ranks the humble with the proud. But, Time, thy course of ruin stay, The lyre's sweet tones one moment hear, By thee o'er earth is spread dismay, Grief's sigh called forth, and pity's tear. Yet, Time, thy speed the dread decree Of retribution on thee brings, Eternity will swallow thee, Thy motion stop, and clip thy wings! SONG. Sweetly came the morning light, When fair Mary blest my sight, In her presence pleasures throng, Louder swelled the birds their song, Pleasanter the day became. Not so radiant are Sol's rays, When on darkest clouds they blaze, As her look, so free from guile, As fair Mary's tender smile, As the smile of my beloved. Not of dew the gems divine Shine as Mary's beauties shine, Not with hers the rose's dye On the fairest cheek can vie, None have beauty like to hers. Mary's kiss as honey sweet, Pure as streamlet clear and fleet, Love inhabits her soft eyes, Floats in all her soothing sighs, Nought on earth so sweet as she.