A H ! where is Time, whose day was young,
When Lucia danc'd, when Emma sung;
When Love and Friendship grac'd the bower
With a new wreath for every hour?

The Syren Pleasure took her aim,
The Fiends of Discord blew their flame:
The Passions rul'd, the Virtues fled,
Pale as the rose of Hymen's bed:

Capricious Fame the signal knew,
Turn'd like a jilt, and backward flew:
Ambition droop'd, her streamers fell,
And Mischief bound the lurking spell:

The Furies of Detraction born,
Base Obloquy, envenom'd Scorn;
And subtle Fiction pierc'd the name
With curses loud, or bitter shame.
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