A Selection from the Lyrical Poems of Robert Herrick

203. TO A GENTLEWOMAN, OBJECTING TO HIM HIS GRAY HAIRS

     Am I despised, because you say;
     And I dare swear, that I am gray?
     Know, Lady, you have but your day!
     And time will come when you shall wear
     Such frost and snow upon your hair;
     And when, though long, it comes to pass,
     You question with your looking-glass,
     And in that sincere crystal seek
     But find no rose-bud in your cheek,
     Nor any bed to give the shew
     Where such a rare carnation grew:-
     Ah!  then too late, close in your chamber keeping,
     It will be told
     That you are old,—
     By those true tears you're weeping.