(For the Mirror.)
Why hast thou mortal, on my slumber broken,
And dragged my struggling spirit back to earth?
Though "walls have ears," yet stones have never spoken.
Why am I made the object of thy mirth?
Why am I questioned thus to tell my fate,
And primal use? Yet hear—whilst I relate.
When time was young, and earth was in her prime,
Secure I slept within her spacious womb;
And ages passed—I took no heed of time,