CXXX.

Oh, Time! the Beautifier of the dead, Adorner of the ruin[508]--Comforter And only Healer when the heart hath bled; Time! the Corrector where our judgments err, The test of Truth, Love--sole philosopher, For all beside are sophists--from thy thrift, Which never loses though it doth defer-- Time, the Avenger! unto thee I lift My hands, and eyes, and heart, and crave of thee a gift: