Sonnet Xxxvii:

Time masks, but cannot bound my love for thee; All the year's changes, the bud, bloom, and fall Of the bright flowers, the tides that slowly crawl Upward and downward through the restless sea The circling planets and the galaxy Of stationed stars that gird this earthly ball, The column, pyramid, and granite wall, On which our race has traced its history; All these seem transient things that pass away Before the presence of my sacred love; Whose Sphinx-like features neither change nor move, Whose lips are curled in scorn of time's decay, Whose solemn eyes are fixed on God's above, Waiting the dawning of His endless day.