Time's stern tide, with cold Oblivion's wave, Shall soon dissolve each fair, each fading charm. Anna Seward
Time's stern tide, with cold Oblivion's wave, Shall soon dissolve each fair, each fading charm.
Suffer not thy wrongs to shroud thy fate, But turn, my soul, to blessings which remain. Anna Seward
Suffer not thy wrongs to shroud thy fate, But turn, my soul, to blessings which remain.
