Classic Poem

In the great City rear'd, my fancy rude
By natural Forms unnurs'd & unsubdued
An Alien from the Rivers & the Fields
And all the Charms, that Hill or Woodland yields,
It was the pride & passion of my Youth
T' impersonate & color moral Truth[:]
Rare Allegories in those Days I spun,
That oft had mystic senses oft'ner none.
Of all Resemblances however faint,
So dear a Lover was I, that with quaint
Figures fantastically grouped I made
Of commonest Thoughts a moving Masquerade.
'Twas then I fram'd this obscure uncouth Rhyme,
A sort of Emblem 'tis of Hope & Time.

In ancient Days, but when I have not read,
Nor know I, where--but 'twas some elfish Place
Their pennons, ostrich-like for Sails outspread,
Two wingéd Children run an endless Race--
A Sister & a Brother
But Hope outruns the other--
Yet ever flies she with reverted Face,
And looks & listens for the Boy behind
Time is his Name--& he, alas! is blind,
With regular Step o'er rough & smooth he past,
And knows not whether he is first or last.