How most do view of time, with great disdain;
By counting furrows that have sewn their face
And blame the clock whose ever tick remain
By seconds fail their age, bequeathing grace.
But of my love, she wears each crinkle proud
Time's not besieged, instead have given back
As said to time; 'my skin's my own allowed
That you dwell here, is not by willing lack'.
Her strength against time's power, power's pained
Have filled my blemished lines with youths of hers
Now I to face my own bear not time's stained:
My mirror turned from foe, now friend, refers.

For reign of time, with swift, devouring fame
Cannot her grace; her aged gifts mine no shame