I'd drink of time's rich cup, and never surfeit:

Fling in more days than went to make the gem

That crown'd the white top of Methusalem:

Yea on my weak neck take, and never forfeit,

Like Atlas bearing up the dainty sky,

The heaven-sweet burden of eternity.


DEUS NOBIS HÆC OTIA FECIT.


[TO SAMUEL ROGERS, ESQ.]