Since that authentic, radiant register,
Though man inspects it not, stands good against him;
Since you, and years, roll on, though man stands still;
Teach me my days to number, and apply
My trembling heart to wisdom; now beyond
All shadow of excuse for fooling on.
Age smooths our path to prudence; sweeps aside
The snares keen appetite and passion spread
To catch stray souls; and woe to that grey head,
Whose folly would undo, what age has done! 1320