The Love Sonnets of Proteus, Vita Nova, C: Age

O Age, thou art the very thief of joy,
For thou hast rifled many a proud fool
Of all his passions, hoarded by a rule
Of stern economy. Him, yet a boy,
Harsh wisdom governed. Others turned to toy
With lusty passion. He was chaste and cool
As a young Dorian in Lycurgus' school.
All me, that thou such souls shouldst dare annoy.
Thus did he gather him a store of pleasure,
cared to touch what he so hardly won,
But led long years of solitary strife ;
And, when the rest should have consumed their treasure,
He thought to sit him in the evening sun
And taste the sweet fruits of a sober life.