TIME.
London, February, 1780.
"The clock struck one! we take no thought of Time,"
Wrapt up in Night, and meditating rhyme.
All big with vision, we despise the powers
That vulgar beings link to days and hours—
Those vile, mechanic things that rule our hearts,
And cut our lives in momentary parts.
That speech of Time was Wisdom's gift, said Young.
Ah, Doctor! better, Time would hold his tongue: