’Twas here, we met, we spoke; ’twas but a moment,
So short the hours seemed; we loved, we parted;
Ah! that harsh word of parting, with such woe shent,
Dulls all the joy that e’er our meeting darted;
Those leagues we linger’d o’er, what steps they seem’d!
How could we give to distance his full dues?
How short those days, when tricksome fancy’s dream’d,
And dress’d the present in rich memory’s hues!
This is Eternity, shorn of the dress
That sedate Time winds round his glowing limbs:
Soon shall the Eternal rise, and find redress
From slanderous Time, who sickens what he dims.
Time rules but mortals, wavers even for men;
Should Truth inhabit such a meteor’s den?