110
LINES.
December 31, 1837.
IME hurries on;Years pass away like visions of the night—
Scarce seen to rise upon the raptured sight
Till all is gone.
Alas! in vain
We strive, with fevered grasp, to bid that stream
One moment pause; it passes like a dream,—
Ne'er felt again.
We strive, with fevered grasp, to bid that stream
One moment pause; it passes like a dream,—
Ne'er felt again.
Yet who can gaze
Upon youth's glowing hours, scarce tinged with pain,
Nor sigh to think time ne'er can bring again
Those merry days?
Upon youth's glowing hours, scarce tinged with pain,
Nor sigh to think time ne'er can bring again
Those merry days?
What heart of man
Can hear unmoved the voice of other years,
And see departed hopes, forgotten fears,
Arise again?
Can hear unmoved the voice of other years,
And see departed hopes, forgotten fears,
Arise again?
Yet at this hour,
When we must bid a child of time farewell,
Such thoughts, such feelings, wake with deeper spell,
And tenfold power.
When we must bid a child of time farewell,
Such thoughts, such feelings, wake with deeper spell,
And tenfold power.
