TIME! seated on thy hoary rock,
Let Ages o’er thee roll,
Their shifting movements calmly mock,
Above such weak controll.
Yet thou art mortal; men there are
Immortal; they from heaven
Look down on thee, and little care
What scars thy wrath has given.
With healing on thy wings, O Time,
To these shalt thou descend,
And lift them o’er that mound sublime
Where earth and heaven blend.
Rise, Napier! thou art call’d away
By him who hears my call,
By him whom all for once obey,
Beyond that once not all.