And the Spirit said,
 "I can make the clock of the years go backward,
 But am loth to stop it where you will."
    And I cried, "Agreed
    To that. Proceed:
    It's better than dead!"

    He answered, "Peace;"
 And called her up - as last before me;
 Then younger, younger she grew, to the year
    I first had known
    Her woman-grown,
    And I cried, "Cease! -

    "Thus far is good -
 It is enough - let her stay thus always!"
 But alas for me - He shook his head:
    No stop was there;
    And she waned child-fair,
    And to babyhood.

    Still less in mien
 To my great sorrow became she slowly,
 And smalled till she was nought at all
    In his checkless griff;
    And it was as if
    She had never been.

    "Better", I plained,
 "She were dead as before! The memory of her
 Had lived in me; but it cannot now!"
    And coldly his voice:
    "It was your choice
    To mar the ordained."