Devouring Time, blunt thou the Lion’s paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws,
And burn the long-livi’d phoenix in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet’st,
And do whate’er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets:
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime,
O, carve not with thy hours my love’s fair brow,
No draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty’s pattern to succeeding man.
Yet do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.