XIV
Oh, Time! There's much I could forgive;
E'en though you told me that to live
Another hour it was denied,
I think I'd lay my life aside
With few regrets, and scarce a sigh,
It would not be so hard to die.
But like a thief steals in the night,
You robbed me; what was mine by right
Your ruthless hands have snatched away;
The passions that were yesterday
You've cankered with your deadly rust,
And turned a living heart to dust.