Add to life’s highest prize her latest hour;
That hour, so late, is nimble in approach,
That, like a post, comes on in full career:
How swift the shuttle flies that weaves thy shroud!
Where is the fable of thy former years? 810
Thrown down the gulf of time; as far from thee
As they had ne’er been thine; the day in hand,
Like a bird struggling to get loose, is going;
Scarce now possess’d, so suddenly ’tis gone;
And each swift moment fled, is death advanced