But soon the rosebud, in developed beauty,
Unfolds its maiden, luring charms to light;
Soon love usurps the walks of tired duty,
And shows its godlike fulness to the sight;
The eaglet soon gladdens his golden plumage,
In the intensest orient of the sun;
Even the meek violet gently must assume age,
And glance through leaves the merit she hath won;
The noon it stealeth from the dewy morning,
And amorous night catcheth the trembling day,
The spring must ripen, and the summer’s warning
That autumn shall not linger more than May;
Thou too must change, developed till all love thee,
And yet a change shall hover just above thee.