Time goes, you say? Ah, no! Alas, Time stays, we go.

The ladies of St James's!
They're painted to the eyes,
Their white it stays for ever,
Their red it never dies:
But Phyllida, my Phyllida!
Her colour comes and goes;
It trembles to a lily,
It wavers to a rose.

For I respectfully decline
To dignify the Serpentine,
And make hors-d'oeuvres for fishes.

And I wove the thing to a random rhyme,
For the Rose is Beauty, the Gardener, Time.

All passes. Art alone/ Enduring stays to us;/ The bust outlasts the throne

The ladies of St James's! They're painted to the eyes, Their white it stays for ever, Their red it never dies: But Phyllida, my Phyllida! Her colour comes and goes; It trembles to a lily, It wavers to a rose.