Thus much however I may add—her years
Were ripe, they might make six-and-twenty springs,
But there are forms which Time to touch forbears,
And turns aside his scythe to vulgar things:
Such as was Mary’s, Queen of Scots; true—tears
And Love destroy; and sapping Sorrow wrings
Charms from the charmer, yet some never grow
Ugly; for instance—Ninon de l’Enclos.