I fear my power impotent To hold you leal and full content, Some hapless look or word perchance Dispels the glamour of romance; I tremble lest some stranger fair Arrest you,—cause you to compare The meagre charms which I possess With some resplendent loveliness. How far removed from Youth's command The trembling sceptre in my hand, As miserly within the glass I mark Love's fleeting hours pass. |