from fairest creatures we desire increase 
that thereby beautys rose might never die 
but as the riper should by time decease 
his tender heir might bear his memory 
but thou contracted to thine own bright eyes 
feedst thy lightst flame with selfsubstantial fuel 
making a famine where abundance lies 
thyself thy foe to thy sweet self too cruel 
thou that art now the worlds fresh ornament 
and only herald to the gaudy spring 
within thine own bud buriest thy content 
and tender churl makest waste in niggarding 
pity the world or else this glutton be 
to eat the worlds due by the grave and thee 
when forty winters shall beseige thy brow 
and dig deep trenches in thy beautys field 
thy youths proud livery so gazed on now 
will be a tatterd weed of small worth held 
then being askd where all thy beauty lies 
where all the treasure of thy lusty days 
to say within thine own deepsunken eyes 
were an alleating shame and thriftless praise 
how much more praise deserved thy beautys use 
if thou couldst answer this fair child of mine 
shall sum my count and make my old excuse 
proving his beauty by succession thine 
this were to be new made when thou art old 
and see thy blood warm when thou feelst it cold 
look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest 
now is the time that face should form another 
whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest 
thou dost beguile the world unbless some mother 
for where is she so fair whose uneard womb 
disdains the tillage of thy husbandry 
unthrifty loveliness why dost thou spend 
upon thyself thy beautys legacy 
natures bequest gives nothing but doth lend 
and being frank she lends to those are free 
then beauteous niggard why dost thou abuse 
the bounteous largess given thee to give 
profitless usurer why dost thou use 
so great a sum of sums yet canst not live 
for having traffic with thyself alone 
thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive 
then how when nature calls thee to be gone 
what acceptable audit canst thou leave 
thy unused beauty must be tombd with thee 
which used lives th executor to be 
those hours that with gentle work did frame 
the lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell 
will play the tyrants to the very same 
and that unfair which fairly doth excel 
for neverresting time leads summer on 
to hideous winter and confounds him there 
sap checkd with frost and lusty leaves quite gone 
beauty oersnowd and bareness every where 
then were not summers distillation left 
a liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass 
beautys effect with beauty were bereft 
nor it nor no remembrance what it was 
but flowers distilld though they with winter meet 
leese but their show their substance still lives sweet 
or who is he so fond will be the tomb 
of his selflove to stop posterity 
thou art thy mothers glass and she in thee 
calls back the lovely april of her prime 
so thou through windows of thine age shall see 
despite of wrinkles this thy golden time 
but if thou live rememberd not to be 
die single and thine image dies with thee 
then let not winters ragged hand deface 
in thee thy summer ere thou be distilld 
make sweet some vial treasure thou some place 
with beautys treasure ere it be selfkilld 
that use is not forbidden usury 
which happies those that pay the willing loan 
thats for thyself to breed another thee 
or ten times happier be it ten for one 
ten times thyself were happier than thou art 
if ten of thine ten times refigured thee 
then what could death do if thou shouldst depart 
leaving thee living in posterity 
be not selfwilld for thou art much too fair 
to be deaths conquest and make worms thine heir 
lo in the orient when the gracious light 
lifts up his burning head each under eye 
doth homage to his newappearing sight 
serving with looks his sacred majesty 
and having climbd the steepup heavenly hill 
resembling strong youth in his middle age 
yet mortal looks adore his beauty still 
attending on his golden pilgrimage 
but when from highmost pitch with weary car 
like feeble age he reeleth from the day 
the eyes fore duteous now converted are 
from his low tract and look another way 
so thou thyself outgoing in thy noon 
unlookd on diest unless thou get a son 
music to hear why hearst thou music sadly 
sweets with sweets war not joy delights in joy 
why lovest thou that which thou receivest not gladly 
or else receivest with pleasure thine annoy 
if the true concord of welltuned sounds 
by unions married do offend thine ear 
they do but sweetly chide thee who confounds 
in singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear 
mark how one string sweet husband to another 
strikes each in each by mutual ordering 
resembling sire and child and happy mother 
who all in one one pleasing note do sing 
whose speechless song being many seeming one 
sings this to thee thou single wilt prove none 
for shame deny that thou bearst love to any 
who for thyself art so unprovident 
grant if thou wilt thou art beloved of many 
but that thou none lovest is most evident 
for thou art so possessd with murderous hate 
that gainst thyself thou stickst not to conspire 
seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate 
which to repair should be thy chief desire 
o change thy thought that i may change my mind 
shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love 
be as thy presence is gracious and kind 
or to thyself at least kindhearted prove 
make thee another self for love of me 
that beauty still may live in thine or thee 
