Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,But sad mortality o'ersways their power,How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O how shall summer's honey breath hold out,Against the wrackful siege of batt'ring days,When rocks impregnable are not so stout,Nor gates of steel so strong but time decays?
O fearful meditation, where alack,Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back,Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O none, unless this miracle have might,That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
