The Poetry Corner

To Time.

By John Clare

In Fancy's eye, what an extended span, Time, hoary herald, has been stretch'd by thee: Vain to conceive where thy dark burst began, Thou birthless, boundless, vast immensity! Vain all conceptions of weak-minded man Thee to unravel from thy mystery!-- In mortal wisdom, thou'st already ran A circled travel of eternity; Still, but a moment of thy mighty plan Seems yet unwound, from what thy age shall see, Consuming Tyrant of all mortal kind!-- And what thou art, and what thou art to be, Is known to none, but that Immortal Mind Who reigns alone superior to thee.