927Selfe, so selfe louing were iniquity,

928 T'is thee(my selfe)that for my selfe I praise,

929Painting my age with beauty of thy daies,

931AGainst my loue shall be as I am now

932With times iniurious hand chrusht and ore-worne,

933When houres haue dreind his blood and fild his brow

934With lines and wrincles, when his youthfull morne

935Hath trauaild on to Ages steepie night,

936And all those beauties whereof now he's King

937Are vanishing, or vanisht out of sight,

938Stealing away the treasure of his Spring.

939For such a time do I now fortifie

940Against confounding Ages cruell knife,

941That he shall neuer cut from memory

942My sweet loues beauty, though my louers life.

943 His beautie shall in these blacke lines be seene,

944And they shall liue , and he in them still greene.

946WHen I haue seene by times fell hand defaced

947The rich proud cost of outworne buried age,

948When sometime loftie towers I see downe rased,

949And brasse eternall slaue to mortall rage.

950When I haue seene the hungry Ocean gaine

951Aduantage on the Kingdome of the shoare,

952And the firme soile win of the watry maine,

953Increasing store with losse, and losse with store.

954When I haue seene such interchange of state,

955Or state it selfe confounded, to decay,

956Ruine hath taught me thus to ruminate

957That Time will come and take my loue away.

958 This thought is as a death which cannot choose

959But weepe to haue, that which it feares to loose.

961SInce brasse, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundlesse sea,

962But sad mortallity ore-swaies their power,