People may say thou art no longer young''
''And yet, to me, thy youth was yesterday,''
''A yesterday that seems''
''Still mingled with my dreams.''
''Ah! how the years have o'er thee flung''
''Their soft mantilla, grey.''
''And e'en to them thou art not over old;''
''How could'st thou be! Thy hair''
''Hast scarcely lost its deep old glorious dark:''
''Thy face is scarcely lined. No mark''
''Destroys its calm serenity. Like gold''
''Of evening light, when winds scarce stir,''
''The soul-light of thy face is pure as prayer.''