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 Lamentation of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots
2. Epitaph for My Father
3. Addressed to Mrs. G.
4. A Ballad of the Eighteenth Century
5. A Vow to Fortune

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

Print

1913 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version