COME, MORTALS, ENLIVEN THE HOUR. Susanna Blamire Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Blamire, Susanna, 1747-1794. The Poetical Works of Miss Susanna Blamire “The muse of Cumberland.” Now for the first time collected by Henry Lonsdale, M.D. with a preface, memoir, and notes by Patrick Maxwell, ... Edinburgh John Menzies, 61 Princes Street; R. Tyas, London; D. Robertson, Glasgow; and C. Thurnam, Carlisle. MDCCCXLII. 1842 p. 186.

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COME , MORTALS , ENLIVEN THE HOUR . COME mortals , enliven the hour that is lent , Nor cloud with false fear the sunshine of to-day ; The ills that hang o'er us what sighs can prevent , Or waft from the eye one moist sorrow away ? Though we see from afar , as he travels life's road , Old time mowing down both the shrub and the flower , Soon or late , we all know , he must sweep our abode , But why damp our mirth by inquiring the hour ? In the span that's allotted then crowd every joy ; Let the goblet run high if in dreams you delight ; Though wine to true pleasure is oft an alloy , And sober reflection grows sick at the sight . Disguis'd are our pleasures , as well as our woes ; On their choice must depend half the turn of our fate ; With the tint of the mind every circumstance glows , And gives to life's trifles their colour and weight .