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I faintly catch, from time to time,
The sweet, aerial midnight chime--Darkling I listen; and for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme,Far fall the day! O cruel Time,
Whose breath sweeps mortal things away,
Spare long this image of his prime,The night will last me my time.
The gold on a crown or a crimeHow sweet to draw, as hiddenly from time,
As from its rocks yon shaded fountain slips,
My yet remaining prime.Now in Injia's sunny clime,
Where I used to spend my timeVisible emperor of the deeds of Time,
With Justice still the genius of his rhyme,Neither catalpa tree nor scented lime
Should hear my living feet, nor would I tread
Where we wrought that shall break the teeth of Time.Child, if it were thine error or thy crime
I care no longer, being all unblest:
Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of Time,For I was born, far from my native clime,
Under the white man's menace, out of time.Quick then, while your day's at prime.
Quick, and if 'tis work for two,
Here am I man: now's your time.I, before I learned how time
Robs all summers at their prime,No other mortal, since the dawn of time,
Has ever pardoned such a mass of crime!'What was thine ancient crime,
Burning through lapse of timeCheat me no more with time,
Take me to your clime.AH, from the niggard tree of Time
How quickly fall the hours!
It needs no touch of wind or rimePause here, and think; a monitory rhyme
Demands one moment of thy fleeting time.To hand my life to time:
You may forgive what worse is
For tickle of the rhyme.Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,Fades all thy fairest prime,
Men shrink from cruel Death,
But honor crafty Time.