Shalt thou deprive me whilst I live
Of feelings fresh and undefiled.
No, never while the earth is fair,
And Reason keeps its dial bright,
Whate'er thy robberies, O Time,
Shall I be bankrupt of delight.
Whate'er thy victories o'er my frame,
Thou canst not cheat me of this truth:
That, though the limbs may faint and fail,
The spirit can renew its youth.