For having traffic with thyself alone, Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive. Then how, when nature calls thee to be gone, What acceptable audit canst thou leave? Thy unused beauty must be tomb'd with thee, Which, used, lives thy executor to be. V. Those hours, that with gentle work did frame And that unfair1 which fairly doth excel; To hideous winter, and confounds him there; A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass, Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was. But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet, Lese 2 but their show; their substance still lives sweet. VI. Then let not winter's ragged hand deface In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd: That use is not forbidden usury, Which happies 3 those that pay the willing loan; That's for thyself to breed another thee, Or ten times happier, be it ten for one; ''Unfair:' deprive of fairness.- Lese: lose. Happies:' makes happy. Ten times thyself were happier than thou art, If ten of thine ten times refigured thee: Be not self-will'd, for thou art much too fair Vi. Lo, in the orient when the gracious light Attending on his golden pilgrimage; So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon, VIII. Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly? 1 By unions married, do offend thine ear, Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly:' thou, whom it is music to hear, why hearest thou, &c. Mark how one string, sweet husband to another, Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing : Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one, Sings this to thee, 'Thou single wilt prove none.' IX. Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye, That thou consum'st thyself in single life? Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die, 1 The world will wail thee, like a makeless 1 wife : The world will be thy widow, and still weep That thou no form of thee hast left behind, When every private widow well may keep, By children's eyes, her husband's shape in mind. Look, what an unthrift in the world doth spend, Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it; But beauty's waste hath in the world an end, And kept unused, the user so destroys it. X. For shame! deny that thou bear'st love to any, Grant if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many, Which to repair should be thy chief desire. ''Makeless:' mateless. H Oh change thy thought, that I may change my mind! Or to thyself, at least, kind-hearted prove; XI. As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st In one of thine, from that which thou departest; And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow'st, Thou may'st call thine, when thou from youth con vertest. Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase; Without this, folly, age, and cold decay : If all were minded so, the times should cease, And threescore years would make the world away. Let those whom Nature hath not made for store, Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish : Look whom she best endow'd, she gave thee more; Which bounteous gift thou should'st in beauty cherish; She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby, XII. When I do count the clock that tells the time, And sable curls, all silver'd o'er with white; Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summer's green all girded up in sheaves, Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard; Then of thy beauty do I question make, That thou among the wastes of time must go, Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake, And die as fast as they see others grow; And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence, Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence. XIII. Oh that you were yourself! but, love, you are And your sweet semblance to some other give. When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear. Who lets so fair a house fall to decay, Which husbandry in honour might uphold Against the stormy gusts of winter's day, And barren rage of death's eternal cold? Oh! none but unthrifts:-Dear my love, you know You had a father; let your son say so. XIV. Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck; But not to tell of good or evil luck, Of plagues, of dearths, or season's quality: But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,. |