When I do sum the moments of the dial
And spy the bold day to darkness fall,
When I survey youth advance the while
And sable coils to white unfold and dull;
When soaring trees shed their leaves,
Which formerly did a great marquee make,
And summer's blooming bound in sheaves
Stillborn in a tomb with webs on it's grave;
Then of thy allure do I inquest, I inquire,
That thou among the ebbing tide must go,
Since lovers & beauty do themselves retire
And die as swiftly as they once didst grow;
Then what 'gainst the passage of time
Can ensure survival, but a timeless rhyme?