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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


MIDNIGHT THOUGHT (ON THE DEATH OF MRS. E.H. & HER DAUGHTER) by ELIZABETH THOMAS

First Line: OH SACRED TIME! HOW SOON THOU'RT GONE!
Last Line: TIS WANT OF SENSE MAKES SUPERFLUITY.
Subject(s): DEATH; LOVE; SOUL; TIME; DEAD, THE;

Oh sacred @3Time@1! how soon thou'rt gone!
How swift thy circling Minutes run!
Oh @3Time@1! our chiefest worldly Good,
If we emply @3Thee@1 as we shou'd!
And yet how few thy Value know,
But think thee troublesome and slow!
(motion and Rest fill up our Time,
And little, Oh my @3Soul@1, is thine!)
We @3eat@1, we @3drink@1, we @3sleep@1, and then
We rise -- to do the same again:
And thus like @3Fairies@1 daily tread,
The same dull Round our Predecessors led.

Young @3Lydia@1 prudent was and fair,
Was all that virtuous Women are;
And yet how soon her Glass was run,
How short her fatal Thread was spun!
How know we our appointed @3Fate@1,
Whether ordain'd us soon or late?
@3Health@1 is uncertain, @3Death@1 is more;
And much we have to do before.

Ah then, my @3Friend@1, let us be wise;
No more the precious Gift despise;
But use it for the End 'twas giv'n,
And prove we're @3candidates@1 of Heaven.
Let others to the Play repair,
Be courted and reputed fair:
Whole Winter-Nights at @3Ombre@1 play
To pass the Drug of Time away.
While we our better Parts employ,
And placidly our Souls enjoy:
Praising that @3Pow'r@1 did us create;
But more the @3Love@1 redeem'd our Fate.
Then with th' illustrious @3Dead@1 converse,
And sometimes with a Friend in @3Verse@1.
Thus in the Culture of the Mind,
Improve those Hours by Fate assign'd:
So shall we from superfluous Time be free:
'Tis Want of Sense makes @3Superfluity@1.



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