When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And Beauty making beautiful old rhyme In praise of lad...

No, Time, thout shalt not boast that I do change: Thy pyramids built up with newer might To me are nothing novel, nothing strange; Th...

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field, Thy youth's proud livery, so gaz'd ...