AGAINST my love shall
be, as I am now |
|
With Times injurious hand crushd
and oerworn; |
|
When hours have draind his blood and
filld his brow |
|
With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful
morn |
|
Hath travelld on to ages steepy
night; |
5 |
And all those beauties whereof now he s
king |
|
Are vanishing or vanishd out of sight, |
|
Stealing away the treasure of his spring; |
|
For such a time do I now fortify |
|
Against confounding ages cruel knife, |
10 |
That he shall never cut from memory |
|
My sweet loves beauty, though my lovers
life: |
|
His beauty shall in these black
lines be seen, |
|
And they shall live, and he in
them still green. |
|