- Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws,
- And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
- Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws,
- And burn the long-liv’d phoenix, in her blood;
- Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,
- And do whate’er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
- To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
- But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
- O! carve not with thy hours my love’s fair brow,
- Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
- Him in thy course untainted do allow
- For beauty’s pattern to succeeding men.
- Yet do thy worst, old Time; despite thy wrong,
- My love shall in my verse ever live young.