Classic Poem

WHEREIN LAURA'S IMMORTAL ATTRIBUTES RESOLVE HIM TO THE PAINFUL PURSUIT OF VIRTUE

O Time! O dizzy Heavens! that in your spinning
Weave many a snare, deception, trick and tangle;
O Days! wind-swift, O Days that scheme and wrangle,
I see, I feel, I know your treacherous dinning!
Yet I absolve you — mine is all the sinning:
For Nature winged you, while, like bells that jangle,
The eyes she gave me I abuse; I mangle
My heart through them, and grief is all my winning.
The hour will come, perhaps even now is over,
When they will turn to happier ends their powers,
And so some peace my anguish may discover:
O Love, the heart regrets you not, her lover,
But its own pain by fiercer pain devours —
Virtue comes only after long dark hours!