Thomas Hardy - The Faded Face lyrics

How was this I did not see Such a look as here was shown Ere its womanhood had blown Past its first felicity? - That I did not know you young, Faded Face, Know you young! Why did Time so ill bestead That I heard no voice of yours Hail from out the curved contours Of those lips when rosy red; Weeted not the songs they sung, Faded Face, Songs they sung! By these blanchings, blooms of old, And the relics of your voice - Leavings rare of rich and choice From your early tone and mould - Let me mourn,—aye, sorrow-wrung, Faded Face, Sorrow-wrung!