As the storm rock'd to rest,—Throw Years away?
Throw Empires, and be blameless. Moments seize,—
Heaven's on their wing: a moment we may wish
When worlds want wealth to buy. Bid Day stand still,
Bid him drive back his car, and re-import
The period past; regive the given hour:
Lorenzo, more than miracles we want:
Lorenzo—O for yesterdays to come!
Such is the language of the man awake;
His ardour such, for what oppresses thee: