True love is not by measure, beauty borne

For beauty stands as raiments held in lease

And like a precious garment soon grows worn,

While yet of heart, fond recall still entreats.

By recollection such your vestment lives

Locked in that precious vault where memories lie,

Though ripened eyes a faded image gives,

Your first glimpsed blush still smites upon my eye.

To me you shine as bright as grace may glow

When my heart wanders to that first held sight

And though Time always stands to ply his woes,

No mischief there can ever shroud that light.

By power of love, your beauty shall remain—

And all aspersions there be cast in vain.