To Time

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.