Kitap 3
And you, who now the love-sick youth reject,
Will prove in age, what pains attend neglect.
None, then will press upon your midnight hours,
Nor wake to strew your street with morning flow'rs.
Then nightly knockings at your doors will cease,
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Whose noiseless hammer, then, may rest in peace.
Alas, how soon a clear complexion fades!
How soon a wrinkled skin plump flesh invades!
And what avails it, tho' the fair one swears
She from her infancy had some grey hairs ?
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She grows all hoary in a few more years,
And then the venerable truth appears.
The snake his skin, the deer his horns may cast,
And both renew their youth and vigor past;
But no receipt can human-kind relieve,
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Doom'd to decrepit age, without reprieve.
Then crop the flow'r which yet invites your eye,
And which, ungather'd, on its stalk must die.
Besides, the tender sex is form'd to bear,
And frequent births too soon will youth impair;
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