Malisque minus est quiquid in nobis fuit,
Olim petitum cecidit, et partu labat,
Maturque multum rapuit ex illa mihi,
Aetas citato senior eripuit gradu.
And as a tree that in the green wood grows,
With fruit and leaves, and in the summer blows,
In winter like a stock deformed shows:
Our beauty takes his race and journey goes,
And doth decrease, and lose, and come to nought,
Admir'd of old, to this by child-birth brought: