766So am I as the rich, whose blessèd key

767Can bring him to his sweet up-lockèd treasure,

768The which he will not every hour survey,

769For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure;

770Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,

771Since, seldom coming, in the long year set,

772Like stones of worth they thinly placèd are,

773Or captain jewels in the carcanet.

774So is the time that keeps you as my chest,

775Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,

776To make some special instant special blessed

777By new unfolding his imprisoned pride.

778 Blessed are you, whose worthiness gives scope,

779 Being had, to triumph; being lacked, to hope.

781What is your substance, whereof are you made,

782That millions of strange shadows on you tend?

783Since every one hath every one one shade,

784And you, but one, can every shadow lend;

785Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit

786Is poorly imitated after you;

787On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set

788And you in Grecian tires are painted new;

789Speak of the spring, and foison of the year:

790The one doth shadow of your beauty show,

791The other as your bounty doth appear,

792And you in every blessed shape we know.

793 In all external grace you have some part,

794 But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

796Oh, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem

797By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!

798The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem

799For that sweet odor which doth in it live;

800The canker blooms have full as deep a dye

801As the perfumèd tincture of the roses,

802Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly,

803When summer's breath their maskèd buds discloses;

804But, for their virtue only is their show,

805They live unwooed, and unrespected fade,

806Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so;

807Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odors made:

808 And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,

809 When that shall vade, my verse distils your truth.