To the Same

On Thames's bank, a gentle youth For LUCY sigh'd with matchless truth, Ev'n when he sigh'd in Rhyme; The lovely maid his flame return'd, And wou'd with equal warmth have burn'd, But that she had not Time.

Oft he repair'd with eager feet In secret shades his fair to meet Beneath th' accustom'd lyme; She wou'd have fondly met him there, And heal'd with love each tender care, But that she had not Time.

"It was not thus, inconstant maid, "You acted once (the shepherd said) "When love was in its prime:" She griev'd to hear him thus complain, And wou'd have writ to ease his pain, But that she had not Time.

How can you act so cold a part? No crime of mine has chang'd your heart, If Love be not a crime.— We soon must part for months, for years— She wou'd have answer'd with her tears, But that she had not Time.