- Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
- Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
- But you shall shine more bright in these contents
- Than unswept stone, besmear’d with sluttish time.
- When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
- And broils root out the work of masonry,
- Nor Mars his sword, nor war’s quick fire shall burn
- The living record of your memory.
- ’Gainst death, and all-oblivious enmity
- Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
- Even in the eyes of all posterity
- That wear this world out to the ending doom.
- So, till the judgement that yourself arise,
- You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.