To Time

TO TIME.

time, thou know'st a lenient hand to lay Softest on sorrow's wounds, and slowly thence (Lulling to sad repose the weary sense) The faint pang stealest unperceived away; On thee I rest my only hope at last, And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear, 1 may look back on every sorrow past,

And meet life's peaceful evening with a smile As some lone bird at day's departing hour Sings in the sunbeam of the transient shower, Forgetful though its wings are wet the while: Yet ah! how much must that poor heart endure. Which hopes from thee, and thee alone, a cure. Bowles.