XXXVI

Yea, gold is son of Zeus: no rust Its timeless light can stain; The worm that brings man's flesh to dust Assaults its strength in vain: More gold than gold the love I sing, A hard, inviolable thing. Men say the passions should grow old With waning years; my heart Is incorruptible as gold, 'Tis my immortal part: Nor is there any god can lay On love the finger of decay.