“Matched with an aged wife, I mete and doleUnequal laws unto a savage race,That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.”

“It little profits that an idle king,By this still hearth, among these barren crags,Match'd with an agèd wife, I mete and doleUnequal laws unto a savage race,That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.”

“But thy strong Hours indignant work’d their wills,And beat me down and marr’d and wasted me,And tho’ they could not end me, left me maim’dTo dwell in presence of immortal youth,Immortal age beside immortal youth,And all I was, in ashes. - Tithonus”

“Sooner or later I too may passively take the printOf the golden age--why not? I have neither hope nor trust;May make my heart as a millstone, set my face as a flint,Cheat and be cheated, and die: who knows? we are ashes and dust.”

“Ah Maud, you milk-white fawn, you are all unmeet for a wife.”

“She sleeps: her breathings are not heardIn palace chambers far apart.The fragrant tresses are not stirr'dThat lie upon her charmed heartShe sleeps: on either hand upswellsThe gold-fringed pillow lightly prest:She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwellsA perfect form in perfect rest.”

“Let me go: take back thy gift:Why should a man desire in any wayTo vary from the kindly race of men,Or pass beyond the goal of ordinanceWhere all should pause, as is most meet for all?...Why wilt thou ever scare me with thy tears,And make me tremble lest a saying learnt,In days far-off, on that dark earth, be true?‘The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.’- Tithonus”