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| Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, | 1 |
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| But sad mortality o'ersways their power, |
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| How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, |
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| Whose action is no stronger than a flower? |
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| O! how shall summer's honey breath hold out, | 5 |
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| Against the wrackful siege of battering days, |
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| When rocks impregnable are not so stout, |
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| Nor gates of steel so strong but Time decays? |
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| O fearful meditation! where, alack, |
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| Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid? | 10 |
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| Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back? |
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| Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid? |
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 O! none, unless this miracle have might, |
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| That in black ink my love may still shine bright. |
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