He was born old; they who got him were grey, br And quaint as things that long had seasoned here br When that he came — a too true vintage of br The lateness of the brewing blood and brain; br Even as in their whims and ways he had br Existed, an imaginary thing, br Twin-lived in him and her e'en long before br They were united in the dream of love. br And therefore comes it that his young life wears br So old a countenance, that he in sooth br Is so too grown-up in his ways and whims; br Unlike the youngling of an early pair, br Who's ta'en the freshness of their favour on, br And is as frisky as the youth of love.