In thee thy summer ere thou be distil’d:
Make sweet some viall; treasure thou some place
That vse is not forbidden vsery
Which happies those that pay the willing lone;
That’s for thy selfe to breed an other thee,
Or ten times happier be it ten for one;
Ten times thy selfe were happier then thou art,
If ten of thine ten times refigur’d thee:
Then what could death doe if thou should’st depart,
Leauing thee liuing in posterity?
Be not selfe-wild for thou art much too faire
To be deaths conquest and make wormes thine heire.
Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface
In thee thy summer ere thou be distilled:
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
With beauty’s treasure ere it be self-killed:
That use is not forbidden usury
Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
That’s 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 self-willed, for thou art much too fair
To be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir.