Oh would that I could stay Time’s wicked hand

That he not e’er disparage beauty so;

Fair flowers would bloom forever on the land

And your sweet visage dwell in Heaven’s glow.

No silver flecks to stain that sable hair,

No crazing lines to mar that silken skin,

No sunken eyes to mark dark shadow’s lair,

No thinning lips to purse in lined chagrin.

If only God would grant me sovereign power,

Such desecration I would staunchly spurn

And radiance last forever, not an hour,

That in your cheeks red roses ever burn.

Perhaps such might resides within my pen,

By words here writ, your glamour never end.