I Look into My Glass

I look into my glass,
  And view my wasting skin,
And say, “Would God it came to pass
  My heart had shrunk as thin!”

For then, I, undistrest
  By hearts grown cold to me,
Could lonely wait my endless rest
  With equanimity.

But Time, to make me grieve,
  Part steals, lets part abide;
And shakes this fragile frame at eve
  With throbbings of noontide.