Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/47

Rh

And foul of face was she become.

And though old Time had left her some

Sparse, straggling locks, her head was white

As though ’twere floured: the loss were light

If that poor body, worn and waste.

The doubtful woe of death should taste;

For shrivelled were her limbs, and dry.

Faded her once bright lustrous eye;

Wrinkled the cheeks once soft and smooth;

And those once pink-shell ears, forsooth,

Now pendent hung; her pearl-like teeth,

Alas! had long since left their sheath,

And barely could she walk as much

As fathoms four without her crutch.

Time speedeth over night and day.

No rest he taketh nor delay

Of briefest movement makes, but steals

So warily along, man feels

His going nought, but fondly deems

Time standeth still; but while he dreams.

Half-waked, Time’s foot hath passed, I trow,

For none can say that time is—!

Ask thou some learned clerk, while he

Maketh response, the time shall be

Gone and departed three times o’er,

For Time aye passeth, but no more

Returneth: e’en as water flows

For ever onward, but ne’er goes

Back to its source. No thing can ’dure

Against the force of time, though sure

As adamant or iron. Time

Each thing devoureth when its prime