I feel remorse for all that time has done

To you, my love, as if myself, not time,

Had seton you the never-resting sun

And the little deadly days, to work this crime.

For not to guard what by such grace was given,

But leave it for the idle hours to take,

Let autumn bury away our summer heaven:

To such a charge what answer can I make

But tBe old saw still by the heart retold,

“Love is exempt from time.” And that is true.

But we, the loved and the lover, we grow old;

Only the truth, the truth is always new:

“Eternity alone our wrong can right,

That makes all young again in time’s despite.”