28 FEBRUARY 1874, Page 12

TWO ROBBERS.

WHEN Death from some fair face Is stealing life away, All weep, save she, the grace That earth shall lose to-day.

When Time from some fair face Steals beauty year by year, For her slow fading grace Who sheds, save she, a tear ?

And Death not often dares So wake the World's distress ; While Time, the cunning, mars Surely all loveliness.

Yet though by breath and breath Fades all our fairest prime, Men shrink from cruel Death, But honour crafty Time. F. W. B.