Ask Time, swift-footed, to return again,
Would flowers he gathered shine with morning dew,
And touch our hearts as once they used to do?
Would lover's kisses now move joy as then,
Or woods and fields give keenest rapture more,
Could mountains upward draw our wearied feet,
Where for companions clouds alone we meet?
Dare joy walk with us on the ocean shore?
If Time revived would any know his face?
Rejoice to see his overburdened back,
Or talk with perfect freedom as of old.—
The weight of memory helps not now the race,
Through deadened sight we miss the early track,
For Time's fierce fires at last like ours grow cold.