MINUTES are flying swiftly, and as yet br Nothing unearthly has enticed my brain br Into a delphic Labyrinth I would fain br Catch an unmortal thought to pay the debt br I owe to the kind Poet who has set br Upon my ambitious head a glorious gain. br Two bending laurel Sprigs 'tis nearly pain br To be conscious of such a Coronet. br Still time is fleeting, and no dream arises br Gorgeous as I would have it only I see br A Trampling down of what the world most prizes br Turbans and Crowns, and blank regality; br And then I run into most wild surmises br Of all the many glories that may be.