Thou shalt not rob me,thievish Time, Of all my blessings or my joy; I have some jewels in my heart Which thou art powerless to destroy. Thou mayest denude my arm or strength, And leave my temples seamed and bare; Deprive mine eyes of passion's light, And scatter silver o'er my hair. But never, while a book remains, And breathes a woman or a child, Shalt thou deprive me while I live Of feelings fresh and undefiled. No, never while the earth is fair, And reason keeps its dial bright, 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. So, thievish Time, I fear thee not; Thou'rt powerless on this heart of mine; My precious jewels are my own, 'Tis but the settings that are thine.