I saw him steal the light away

   That haunted in her eye:

It went so gently none could say

More than that it was there one day

   And missing by-and-by.

I watched her longer, and he stole

   Her lily tincts and rose;

All her young sprightliness of soul

Next fell beneath his cold control,

   And disappeared like those.

I asked: “Why do you serve her so?

   Do you, for some glad day,

Hoard these her sweets—?”  He said, “O no,

They charm not me; I bid Time throw

   Them carelessly away.”

Said I: “We call that cruelty—

   We, your poor mortal kind.”

He mused.  “The thought is new to me.

Forsooth, though I men’s master be,

   Theirs is the teaching mind!”