238 fit. 
Fib ....Time. 
What does not fade? the tower, that long had stood 
The crush of thunder and the warring winds, 
Shook by the slow, but sure destroyer, Time, 
Now hangs in doubtful ruins o’er its base, 
And flinty pyramids and walls of brass 
Descend; the Babylonian spires are sunk; 
Achaia, Rome, and Egypt moulder down. 
Time shakes the stable tyranny of thrones, 
And tottering empires crush by their own weight. 
Armstrong. 
The clock upon the mantel-piece is ticking; 
Thus hour by hour it tolls a funeral chime: 
By day and night its calm and constant clicking 
Denotes the speed of the old traveller Time. 
It is a solemn voice. Who hath an ear 
To hear its warning accents, let him hear, 
And preparation make to meet the day 
When he, alone, shall lie upon the brink 
Of human life, and death shall bid him drink 
The hemlock cup that none can put away. 
What though man turn from the unwelcome theme, 
Will Time sit still for man’s forgetfulness ?— 
To watch and wake were wiser than to dream 
And wake at last to wo remediless. 
MacKellar. 
