Classic Poem

" There's no balm for broken hearts,
There's no light for darkened homes,
None to wipe the tear that starts,
Until Time the Healer comes.
So I sighed, while now my way
Westward sloped with fall of day,
And I came and sat alone
On the mile's last sculptured stone.
Seem from spoiled lands, like morn's ray,
Rushed a steed foam-flanked and grey,
Lighting-reined, a thing of wonder,
Maned with storm and hoofed with thunder,
And a strong man sat thereon,
In whom Age and Youth seemed one,
From whose golden mouth this chant
Rang to the hoofs reverberant, —
" I bring balm for broken hearts,
I wipe every tear that starts,
I pour light thro' darkened homes,
I am Time: thy Healer comes. "
" Stay, " said I, " stay then awhile
In this daylight's dying smile. "
Whereto he: " Hadst thou at morn
Asked me this, I had forborne.
Now thy prayer claims no defence;
See, night comes, and I must hence.
For with morn's first hours I creep,
Swifter course with noon I keep,
But tow'rd night I bound and leap. "
Wild as childhood's dream of wonder,
Flashed he thence on hoof of thunder
Down the valleys darkening under,
And for all that I could say,
Fast and faster fled away;
While I wailed, " Ah! welladay!
Stay, oh, stay. "