Thomas Hardy - The Beauty lyrics

O do not praise my beauty more,   In such word-wild degree, And say I am one all eyes adore;   For these things hara** me! But do for ever softly say:   “From now unto the end Come weal, come wanzing, come what may,   Dear, I will be your friend.” I hate my beauty in the gla**:   My beauty is not I: I wear it: none cares whether, alas,   Its wearer live or die! The inner I O care for, then,   Yea, me and what I am, And shall be at the gray hour when   My cheek begins to clam.