from Canto XIII

111

They separated at an early hour;
     That is, ere midnight—which is London’s noon:
But in the country ladies seek their bower
     A little earlier than the waning Moon.
Peace to the slumbers of each folded flower—
     May the rose call back its true colours soon!
Good hours of fair cheeks are the fairest tinters,
And lower the price of rouge—at least some winters.