LXIV. When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age; When sometime lofty towers I fee down-razed, And brass eternal flave to mortal rage; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm foil win of the watery main, Increasing ftore with loss and loss with store; When I have feen fuch interchange of state, Or state itself confounded to decay; Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate, That Time will come and take my love away. LXV. Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Shall Time's best jewel from Time's cheft lie hid ? O, none, unless this miracle have might, That in black ink my love may still shine bright. LXVI. Tired with all thefe, for reftful death I As, to behold desert a beggar born, Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, Save that, to die, I leave my love alone. LXVII. Ah, wherefore with infection should he live That fin by him advantage should achieve Why should falfse painting imitate his cheek, Roses of shadow, fince his rose is true? Why should he live, now Nature bankrupt is, Beggar'd of blood to blush through lively veins? For she hath no exchequer now but his, And, proud of many, lives upon his gains. O, him she stores, to show what wealth she had LXVIII. Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, The right of fepulchres, were fhorn away, Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay: And him as for a map doth Nature ftore, |