TO HIS FRIEND, PROMISING THAT THOUGH HER BEAUTY FADE by GEORGE TURBERVILLE

I wot full well that beauty cannot last;
No rose that springs but lightly doth decay,
And feature like a lily leaf doth waste,
Or as the cowslip in the midst of May;
I know that tract of time doth conquer all,
And beauty's buds like fading flowers do fall.
That famous dame, fair Helen, lost her hue
When withered age with wrinkles changed her cheeks,
Her lovely looks did loathsomeness ensue,
That was the A per se of all the Greeks.
And sundry more that were as fair as she,
Yet Helen was as fresh as fresh might be.
No force for that, I price your beauty light
If so I find you steadfast in good will.
Though few there are that do in age delight,
I was your friend, and so do purpose still;
No change of looks shall breed my change of love,
Nor beauty's want my first good will remove.

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