University of Virginia Library

TO AGNES.

REPLY TO SOME LINES, BEGINNING, “ARREST, O TIME! THY FLEETING COURSE.”

Time will not check his eager flight,
Though gentle Agnes scold,
For 'tis the Sage's dear delight
To make young ladies old.
Then listen, Agnes, friendship sings;
Seize fast his forelock grey,
And pluck from his careering wings
A feather every day.
Adorn'd with these, defy his rage,
And bid him plough your face,
For every furrow of old age
Shall be a line of grace.
Start not;—old age is Virtue's prime;
Most lovely she appears,
Clad in the spoils of vanquish'd Time,
Down in the vale of years.
Beyond that vale, in boundless bloom,
The eternal mountains rise;
Virtue descends not to the tomb,
Her rest is in the skies.
1804.