Ambition was my idol, which was broken
Before the shrines of Sorrow, and of Pleasure;
And the two last have left me many a token
O’er which reflection may be made at leisure:
Now, like Friar Bacon’s Brazen Head, I’ve spoken,
“Time is, Time was, Time’s past:”—a chymic treasure
Is glittering Youth, which I have spent betimes—
My heart in passion, and my head on rhymes.