On Titian's Allegory of Prudence

"Who is he, who stares back at me from the mirror? I am not him, with wrinkles and faded beard that is rough and inelegant, stained with soup and unmentionable Things. Ah, No: I am that handsome man who yet has gravitas, And is great in the world, admired and respected, Whispered judgments "He will go far; look how he strides the stage of life”. Yet time cares not for public acclamation, nor worldly goods, He is above such things and shakes his hourglass to hasten Our end. Slowly, with strong and rhythmic strokes, he hones His scythe, our time to come. The young man knows not of this, blind to time and destiny Intent only on here, now, today, this brief moment, a swift Kiss, this easy profit. But time is patient, grey beards grow And suddenly, we are old".