O TIME! who know'st a lenient hand to lay <br />Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence <br />(Lulling to sad repose the weary sense) <br />The faint pang stealest unperceived away; <br />On thee I rest my only hope at last, <br />And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear <br />That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear, <br />I may look back on every sorrow past, <br />And meet life's peaceful evening with a smile: <br />As some lone bird, at day's departing hour, <br />Sings in the sunbeam, of the transient shower <br />Forgetful, though its wings are wet the while:-- <br /> Yet ah! how much must this poor heart endure, <br /> Which hopes from thee, and thee alone, a cure!<br /><br />William Lisle Bowles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/time-and-grief/
