THERE COMES A TIME.

There comes a time, a dreary time,

To him whose heart hath flown

O'er all the fields of youth's sweet prime,

And made each flow its own.

‘ Tis when his soul must first renounce

Those dreams so bright, so fond;

Oh! then's the time to die at once.

For life has naught beyond.

When sets the sun on Afric's shore,

That instant all is night;

And so should life at once be o'er.

When Love withdraws his light;—

Nor, like our northern day, gleam on

Thro’ twilight's dim delay,

The cold remains of lustre gone,

Of fire long past away.