And I shall love her still,
Said he, though time and
Its cruel sickle cut
Her down in size and

Take the brightness from
Her eyes, and turn her
Dark locks of hair to
Change them into that

Greyish fair, still shall
I love her and her
Being there. And still
I shall need her, said

He, though age passes
Hands of change upon
Her brow and wrinkles
Make like deepest sad

Furrows and time with
Its cruel fingers cause
Her sorrows, still shall
I care and love her

So and more, until
The moon go out and
The sea no longer
Come visit the shore