When blushing cheeks and downcast eyes
Set all the heart aflame,
When love within a dimple lies
And constancy's a name,
Since every lass is passing fair,
Cupid must fly and see;
And, lightly flitting here and there,
A winged boy is he.

When creeping years steal on apace
And youth and vigor go,
When time with wrinkles marks the face
And strews the hair with snow,
Ah, then no winged boy is he;
But strong-limbed and complete,
With blinded eyes that need not see,
Since memory guides his feet