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-lived phoenix in her blood;
Make glad [and]1 sorry seasons as thou fleets
As do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time
To the wide world and [all]2 her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O! carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty's pattern to succeeding men
Yet, do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong
My love shall in my verse ever live young