In a land of sand and ruin and gold There shone one woman, and none but she - Algernon Charles Swinburne

Behold, when thy face is made bare, he that loved thee shall hate;
Thy face shall be no more fair at the fall of thy fate
For thy life shall fall as a leaf and be shed as the rain;
And the veil of thine head shall be grief, and the crown shall be pain.

Gone deeper than all plummets sound. {cf. Shak.: I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded… (The Tempest)}

Ah that such sweet things should be fleet,
Such fleet things sweet!