A New(er) Acquaintance of Thy Mind: Day 13

These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,

Are more than truth in beauty lost in truth:

For all the world such madness could not brook

As that which is the summer of thy youth.

Yet as thy days to winter's pole incline,

Uplift thine eyes to autumn's golden blaze;

Let all the glory of the world be thine,

Unnumber'd in the span of all thy days.

Into one moment breathe all thou hast known,

And if in all eternity there be

Another such, thou shalt not find it gone,

But biding for the splendour that was thee.

The sum of joy that all thy nature took

Shall profit thee and much enrich thy book.