OH! why, thou dull noter of time,
Dost thou move so progressively slow?
Is it merely to measure my rhyme?
Or is it to measure my woe?
Ye moments that flew with delight,
When with my Lucinda I’ve stray’d,
Oh, say, is it out of mere spite
That ye now are so sadly delay’d.
Come, hasten your tardy career,
And fly with a Mercury wing,
Till the friend of my bosom is here,
Then let Saturn add weight to each spring.
For moments then gladly I’ll find,
As long as a Midsummer day;
And fancy, when Phoebus declin’d,
He had shorten’d the length of his ray.
(Mary Hopkins Pilkington)
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Based on Topics: Time Poems, Friendship Poems, Spring Poems, Work & Career PoemsBased on Keywords: declin, lucinda, noter