Time measures woe; her reign he oft makes brief

Time measures woe; her reign he oft makes brief, Oft lights the smile that decks the shining tear, When Hope would fling aside the web of grief, And over all would in full view appear. ’Twas thus Irene could dash aside all fear, Could see returning from the unequal strife Her best beloved, the beauteous South so dear To both triumphant still, and honors rife Bestrewn along the path to deck their future life.