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Good marriages grow better as they grow older. Fidelity ages well. This poem echo the sentiment of Robert Browning’s famous call: “Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be.”

By Thomas Moore

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
     Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
     Like fairy-gifts fading away,
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
     Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
     Would entwine itself verdantly still.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
     And they cheeks unprofaned by a tear,
That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known,
     To which time will but make thee more dear;
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
     But as truly loves on to the close,
As the sun-flower turns on her god, when he sets,
     The same look which she turned when he rose.
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