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| Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye, | 1 |
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| That thou consum'st thy self in single life? |
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| Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die, |
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| The world will wail thee like a makeless wife; |
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| The world will be thy widow and still weep | 5 |
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| That thou no form of thee hast left behind, |
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| When every private widow well may keep |
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| By children's eyes, her husband's shape in mind: |
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| Look! what an unthrift in the world doth spend |
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| Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it; | 10 |
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| But beauty's waste hath in the world an end, |
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| And kept unused the user so destroys it. |
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 No love toward others in that bosom sits |
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| That on himself such murd'rous shame commits. |
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