I shudder from your beauty. Hour by hourI dread the time that comes and will not spareThe colourless strange yellow of your hair,More fain than lips of lovers to devourThat thin wide mouth of yours, a sanguine flower,A joy, a dream, a wonder and a snare!That comes to shake into the driving airGreen leaf and pink bud from thine apple-bower.
I know that even as Autumn ere he goesSpares neither lily nor rayonnant rose,So time shall spoil and scatter shred by shredYour face's worn white beauty hard and cold,Shall wholly ruin your hair's sweet pallid gold,And waste your mouth's fierce strip of poppied red.
