I told her when I left one day
That whatsoever weight of care
Might strain our love, Time's mere assault
       &nbsp Would work no changes there.
And in the night she came to me,
       &nbsp Toothless, and wan, and old,
With leaden concaves round her eyes,
       &nbsp And wrinkles manifold.

I tremblingly exclaimed to her,
"O wherefore do you ghost me thus!
I have said that dull defacing Time
       &nbsp Will bring no dreads to us."
"And is that true of YOU?" she cried
       &nbsp In voice of troubled tune.
I faltered: "Well . . . I did not think
       &nbsp You would test me quite so soon!"

She vanished with a curious smile,
Which told me, plainlier than by word,
That my staunch pledge could scarce beguile
       &nbsp The fear she had averred.
Her doubts then wrought their shape in me,
       &nbsp And when next day I paid
My due caress, we seemed to be
       &nbsp Divided by some shade.