The Face of Youth

It is best that Shakespeare's "ashes of youth,"
Were wrote describing him, if not the truth,
For if this was not the tune of old Will's song,
Then I should say the Bard had had it wrong.

The face of youth is marked by haughty reds, or brilliant gold,
Or perhaps by the browns and blacks of forests' nights,
and from behind these beards hot eyes look to mate or fight.
There and thus do men grow old.  They gray about the face.

They grow stiff and cold more quickly than the female of the race,
But no beards do women grow.
Though they learn tales and grow more sage,
This growth speaks only of improvement, not of age.