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