I saw an old man go by and Time never touched him.

Time that has carried away the seven gates of Thebes!

She has tried to bind him with ropes of eternal sand, she had hoped to
oppress him with the Pyramids.

He lies there in the sun with his foolish hair all spread about her
paws.

If she ever learns his secret we will put out his eyes, so that he
shall find no more our beautiful things--there are lovely gates in
Florence that I fear he will carry away.

We have tried to bind him with song and with old customs, but they
only held him for a little while, and he has always smitten us and
mocked us.

When he is blind he shall dance to us and make sport.

Great clumsy Time shall stumble and dance, who liked to kill little
children and can hurt even the daisies no longer.

Then shall our children laugh at him who slew Babylon's winged bulls
and smote great numbers of the elves and fairies, when he is shorn of
his hours and his years.

We will shut him up in the Pyramid of Cheops, in the great chamber
where the sarcophagus is. Thence we will lead him out when we give our
feasts. He shall ripen our corn for us and do menial work.