hoary

| And a king’s son?’—lifted his voice, and call’d

\ A hoary man, his chamberlain, to whom

He trusted all things, and of him required

Heaves and quivers and pants aloud

All the world of the waters, hoary

Now, but clothed with its own live glory,

That none from the pride of her head may rend,

Violet and olive-leaf purple and hoary,

Song-wreath and story the fairest of fame,

Let us kneel with Mary maid,

With Joseph bent and hoary,

With saint and angel, ox and ass,

And on thy threshold let me lie dispread,

Suff'ring much cold by hoary night's frost bred.

So shall my love continue many years;

Tamed this primeval wood,

And hoary trees with groans of woe,

Like warriors by an unknown foe,

Wherein the birds were wont to build their bower,

And now are cloth'd with moss and hoary frost,

Instead of blossoms, wherewith your buds did flower;

(As garments do, which waxen old above,)

And draweth new delights with hoary hairs.