William Shakespeare (1564–1616)

As fast as thou shalt wane so fast thou grow’st

In one of thine, from that which thou departest,

And that fresh bloud which yongly thou bestow’st

Thou maist call thine, when thou from youth conuertest.

Herein liues wisdome, beauty, and increase,

Without this, follie, age, and could decay;¹

If all were minded so, the times should cease,

And threescoore yeare would make the world away:

Let those whom nature hath not made for store,

Harsh, featurelesse, and rude, barrenly perrish:

Looke whom she best indow’d, she gaue the more;²

Which bountious guift thou shouldst in bounty cherrish.

        She caru’d thee for her seale, and ment therby,

        Thou shouldst print more, not let that coppy die.³

As fast as thou shalt wane so fast thou grow’st

In one of thine, from that which thou departest,

And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow’st

Thou mayst call thine, when thou from youth convertest.

Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase,

Without this, folly, age, and cold decay;

If all were minded so, the times should cease,

And threescore year would make the world away:

Let those whom nature hath not made for store,

Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:

Look whom she best endowed, she gave the more;

Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish.

        She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby,

        Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.