Poem by Anne Hunter

Time

TIME may ambition's nest destroy,
Though on a rock 'tis perch'd so high,
May find dull av'rice in his cave,
And drag to light the sordid slave;
But from affection's temper'd chain
To free the heart he strives in vain.
The sculptur'd urn, the marble bust,
By time are crumbled with the dust;
But tender thoughts the muse has twin'd
For love, for friendship's brow design'd,
Shall still endure, shall still delight,
Till time is lost in endless night.

1. The Spirit’s Song
2. Ode to the Conduit Vale, Blackheath
3. Song 15. When hollow bursts the rushing wind
4. Sonnet after the Death of Laura
5. The Genius of the Mountains of Balagata

Jones Very Time ("There is no moment but whose flight doth bring")

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