@3To the Clock@1 Hail requiem of departed time Never was richman's funeral Followed behind the pall By the heir's eager feet, With resignation more complete Yet not his hope is mine Thou diggst the grave of each day Not mine, Dig it thou shalt; I defy thee to forbear it O Time thou loiterer Thou whose might Laid low Enceladus & crushed the moth Rest on thy hoary throne forgetting Alike thy agitations & thy graves Arachnean webs decoying & destroying Webs whereat the Gorgons ply But lo! thy web's motheaten The shuttles quiver as the loom's beams are shaken |