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 bister coils to white unfold for all ;
When soaring trees so leave their leaves,
Which formerly did a great marquee make,
And Summers' blooms yet bound in sheaves,
Stillborn in a tomb with webs on the grave;
Then of thy allure do I inquest, I inquire,
If thou among the ebbing tide must go,
Since lovers & beauty do themselves retire;
And shrink as swiftly as they once didst grow;
Then what else against the passage of Time
Can ensure survival, besides a timeless rhyme?