Change lays her hand not upon the truth.

Before the beginning of years There came to the making of man Time with a gift of tears, Grief with a glass that ran .

The sweetest flowers in all the world- A baby's hands.

Fruits fail and love dies and time ranges;Thou art fed with perpetual breath, and alive after infinite changes,And fresh from the kisses of death,Of langours rekindled and rallied, Of barren delights and unclean,Things monstrous and fruitless, a pallidAnd poisonous queen.

Forget that I remember And dream that I forget.

Love, till dawn sunder night from day with fire Dividing my delight and my desire.

I remember the way we parted, The day and the way we met; You hoped we were both broken-hearted And knew we should both forget.