For age with stealing steps Hath clawed me with his crutch

- Thomas Vaux, 2nd Baron Vaux Of Harrowden

I loathe that I did love, In youth that I thought sweet

- Thomas Vaux, 2nd Baron Vaux Of Harrowden

My hand and pen are not in plight, As they have been of yore.

- Thomas Vaux, 2nd Baron Vaux Of Harrowden

As ye of clay were cast by kind, So shall ye waste to dust.

- Thomas Vaux, 2nd Baron Vaux Of Harrowden

The wrinkles in my brow, The furrows in my face, Say, limping age will lodge him now Where youth must give him place.

- Thomas Vaux, 2nd Baron Vaux Of Harrowden

My lusts they do me leave, My fancies all be fled, And tract of time begins to weave Grey hairs upon my head.

- Thomas Vaux, 2nd Baron Vaux Of Harrowden