XIV

Oh, Time! There's much I could forgive; E'en though you told me that to live Another hour it was denied, I think I'd lay my life aside With few regrets, and scarce a sigh, It would not be so hard to die.

But like a thief steals in the night, You robbed me; what was mine by right Your ruthless hands have snatched away; The passions that were yesterday You've cankered with your deadly rust, And turned a living heart to dust.