Let fall the ashen veil
On locks of ebon sheen;
And let Time’s furrowing tale
On once-smooth brows be seen.
And let my eyes forego
Their once-keen shaft of sight;
Let hands and feet not know
Their former skill or might.
Take all of outward grace,
Ye Aging Powers--but hold!
Touch not the inner place,
Let not my heart be old!
Then, Youth, to me repair;
And be my soothéd guest;
All things with you I share
Save one,--that wild unrest!
[Illustration]