Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.
Frederick Locker-Lampson 182195To My Mistress
C
And feel how Time is wasting here:
Ay, more, he soon his worst will do,
And garner all your roses too.
Around our best and fairest things;
He’ll mar your blooming cheek, as now
He stamps his mark upon my brow.
To rule your days and nights as mine:
Once I was young and gay, and, see…
What I am now you soon will be.
That shields me from your worst alarm;
And bids me gaze, with front sublime,
On all these ravages of Time.
I boast a gift that Time defies:
For mine will still be mine, and last
When all your pride of beauty’s past.
Of eyes—ah, sweet to me as yours!
For ages hence the great and good
Will judge you as I choose they should.
With whom I still shall win renown,
Will only know that you were fair
Because I chanced to say you were.
At aged heads and silver locks;
But think awhile before you fly,
Or spurn a poet such as I.