Tempus, tempus edax, ungues obtunde leonum,
Fac subolem tellus hauriat ipsa parens;
Tigridis e malis aciem rape dentis, et ure
Phoenica annosum sanguinis igne sui;
Fac miseros hilaresve annos utcunque libebit
O rapidum tempus, fac mihi quidquid aves,
Mundo ac deliciis marcentis abutere mundi
Omnibus, hoc unum tu vereare nefas:
Est puer, o ne sculpe horas in fronte venusta
Eius, ibi senii ducere parce notas;
Praetereas unum sine labe, et noscere possint
Hoc specimen formae saecla futura virûm.
I tamen, o tempus, quodvis conere maligni,
Hic puer in versu vixerit usque meo.
Virginea ora geris nativo picta colore,
O puer, o animae mascula flamma meae!
Virginis et placidum pectus, quod mobile quidquam
Nesciat, ut fallax scit muliebre genus.
Luce tui excellunt oculi sensuque fideli,
Tangentes auro qualiacunque vident.
Vir specie decus omne tenes, nam percutis idem
Corda puellarum, ducis et ora virûm.
Te facere instituit primo natura puellam,
Ni studio sese falleret inter opus;
Sed nimium addendo spe me deiecit ab omni,
Id dederat quod non ad mea vota facit;
Virginibus te gratum ea fecerat; usus amoris
Detur eis igitur, dum mihi detur amor.
So it is not with me as with that Muse
Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
Making a couplement of proud compare
With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich
gems,
With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare
That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.
O let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother's child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air:
Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
I will not praise that purpose not to sell.
My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
So long as youth and thou are of one date;
But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover thee
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Which in thy breast doth live as thine in me:
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O therefore, love, be of thyself so wary
As I, not for myself but for thee, will;
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain;
Thou gavest me thine, not to give back again.
Dissimile ingenium nobis illique poetae
Cui canitur pictis femina nota genis.
Delicias quaerens ipsum scrutatur Olympum,
Cumque venusto omni nominat ille suam.
Comparat huic solem lunamque superbius ille,
Quasve parit gemmas terra vadumque maris;
Comparat Aprilem, et violas, et siquid ubique
Rarius aetheriae continet aura plagae.
Ast ego, verus amans, optarim scribere vera,
Atque ita, sic credas, est mihi pulcher amor;
Nil facie superat, quanquam superare nitore
Aurea per caelum lumina mille puto.
Plura quidem effundent sua qui praeconia curant;
Laus, nihil optanti vendere, quid sit opus?
Noluerim speculo de canis credere nostris
Ipse iuventutis dum, puer, instar eris;
At senii rugas in te quo tempore cernam,
Et mihi clausum iri tum scio morte dies.
Omnis enim forma haec quae te vestire videtur,
Verius insigni cor mihi veste tegit;
Vtraque in alterno vivunt nam pectore corda,
Nec sine te possim nomen habere senis.
O tueare ergo mihi te, velut ipse tuebor
Me tibi, custodem cordis, amice, tui;
Haud minus hoc timide gesto quam sedula nutrix
Praetimet infanti quem gerit omne malum.
Nec repetendum hoc ipse, meum si perdis, habeto;
Te mihi non dederas rursus ut ipse darem.
As an imperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart,
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,
O'ercharged with burden of mine own love's might.
O, let my looks be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast;
Who plead for love and look for recompense
More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.
O, learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.
Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell❜d
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 't is held,
And perspective it is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictured lies;
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art, They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
Vt stupet in scena quis non assuetus agendo
Impositas partes excutiente metu;
Vtque ferae vires effervescentis in iram
Immodicus laedit debilitatque furor;
Sic ego nonnunquam linguae diffisus omitto
Plurima quae plane dicere vellet amans.
Et videor languens in amore ac lentior esse
Quod ruit his in me viribus ille deus.
O igitur sine me voltu mea sensa profari;
Pectoris is fiat vox sine voce mei.
Causam is amoris agat melius, mercedis et optet
Plus sibi, quam felix omnia lingua loqui.
O legere addiscas pietatis verba silentis;
Auscultare oculis ingeniosus amor.
En oculus pictorem egit mihi, picta per illum In tabula cordis forma venusta tua est; Corporis in compage mei pictura tenetur Pulchra, novoque artis perspicienda modo. Namque per artificem spectando videris artem Eius, et effigies quo tua picta situ;
Pectoris in cella est suspensa, vicemque fenestrae En oculi supplent, irradiantque, tui.
Nunc oculis oculi reddunt quae mutua, quaeso,
Nosce; mei vera te posuere fide;
Perque tuos, nostro claras in corde fenestras,
Sol penetrare, ut te contueatur, amat.
Non oculis tamen omnis inest sollertia; pingunt
Visa sibi, nequeunt corda videre virûm.
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