I

Love on tiptoe to the doorway of the mouldering hovel came,
Where Time sat within the shadow of the hearthstone by the flame:
He looked through, and saw the Anarch bent above the glowing brands,
Poring o'er the hour-glass lapsing through his brown and withered hands.

II

The red lights upon his leaden forehead their reflection threw,
Till the motionless and lifelike form to life and motion grew;
As on Egypt's sands the rising sun the giant statue crowned,
Till the rays, with warmth infusing, filled its hollow breast with sound.

III

Then a bright thought flashed within him; you could read it in the guise
Of his lips that smiled in triumph, the arch malice of his eyes;
And he raised the latch and entered, like a rainbow, or a wave
Dancing on the beach at morning, or a sunbeam o'er a grave.

IV

" Come, old Time!" — he said, " smile on me! why, oh why should we be foes?
I in life volcanic living, thou in everlasting snows.
Shake not thy grey tresses! trust me; take this glowing hand in thine,
For a day change natures with me, I thine own, while thou art mine.

V

" I have mocked thee and thy hour-glass; lo, I make thee thus amends!
Lend it with thy scythe and mantle, take my quiver; and be friends;
With this bow and dart and rosewreath, ice itself shall own thy sway;
Thou shalt prove the life of passion and the madness of a day."

VI

When the evening star was lighted, and sage Night her veils up raised,
By the hearth grey Time, reclining, watched the red flame as it blazed;
But the quiver lay unemptied, and the bow unstrung, and dart
Pointless, on the floor were lying, thrown like broken toys apart.

VII

" Minion!" sighed the angry Monarch, where the boy in glory stood,
" Fiast thou mocked me with thy follies, with thy toys of painted wood?
What flame quickens age to boyhood, what sun warms a wintry clime?
What can twine the arms of beauty round the icy breast of Time?"

VIII

Said the boy, while blushing, laughing, — " Anarch, thou the truth hast shown:
Psyche fled in terror when I held up thy glass for her own!
Take thy scythe and sands, but give me back my arrows ere we sever:
Love and Time share nought in kindred; thou and I must part for ever!"