Time, who with soft pale ashes veils the brand br Of many a hope that flared against the sky br To plant its heaven-storming banners high, br Has touched you with no desecrating hand; br Your beauty wins a ripeness sweet and bland br As opulent summer, and your glancing eye br Glows with a deeper lustre, and your sigh br Of love is still my clamouring heart's command. br br Yet what if all your fairness were defaced, br Wilted by passionate whirlwinds, battle-scarred, br Your skin of delicate satin hard and dry? br Still you would be the laughing girl who graced br A gloomy manhood, by forebodings marred, br In the deep wood where still we love to lie.