Page:Elegiac Sonnets 1.pdf/108

Rh

Till saddening, sickening at the view We learn'd to dread what Time might do; And then preferr'd a prayer to Fate To end our days ere that arrived; When (power and pleasure long survived) We met neglect and—Thirty-eight.

But Time, in spite of wishes, flies, And Fate our simple prayer denies, And bids us Death's own hour await: The auburn locks are mix'd with grey, The transient roses fade away, But Reason comes at—Thirty-eight.

Her voice the anguish contradicts That dying vanity inflicts; Her hand new pleasures can create, For us she opens to the view Prospects less bright—but far more true, And bids us smile at—Thirty-eight.