For only love withstands the march of time—

Fair roses in the lips and cheeks must die,

When sallow hues make gaunt the sweetest prime,

And age dulls brightness that once lit the eye.

Soft sable tresses soon will wear light snow,

Ice crystal shards encrusting jointed bones;

The straightest back to bend beneath life’s woes,

With simple movements echoed by sad groans.

Yet love endures these dread indignities

And warms the heart that winter has made cold,

There summer smiles rekindle memories

That revel in the light of stories old.

Yes, hand in hand we shall face winter’s rage;

Sweet love, the balm all hardship to assuage.