| THUS is his cheek the map of days outworn | |
| When beauty liv’d and died as flowers do now, | |
| Before these bastard signs of fair were born, | |
| Or durst inhabit on a living brow; | |
| Before the golden tresses of the dead, | 5 |
| The right of sepulchres, were shorn away, | |
| To live a second life on second head; | |
| Ere beauty’s dead fleece made another gay: | |
| In him those holy antique hours are seen, | |
| Without all ornament, itself and true, | 10 |
| Making no summer of another’s green, | |
| Robbing no old to dress his beauty new; | |
| And him as for a map doth Nature store, | |
| To show false Art what beauty was of yore. |