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 never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter and confounds him there;
Sap check'd with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'ersnow'd and bareness every where;
Then, were not summer's distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it nor no remembrance what it was:
But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.
Then let not winter's ragged hand deface
In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd:
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
With beauty's treasure, ere it be self-kill'd.
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-will'd, for thou art much too fair
To be death's conquest and make worms thine heir.
Horae quae tacita geniales arte creabant
Delicias oculi, ruris agreste decus,
Imperiis in eo saevis utentur eaedem,
Dedecoraturae si qua decora nitent.
It sine fine dies; aestas in squalida brumae
Ducitur, inde omnis despoliata iacet.
Deriguere gelu suci, caret arbor honore,
Forma latet multa sub nive, cuncta vacant.
Inde nisi umorem stillasset nectaris aestas,
Et lacrima in vitreo carcere capta foret,
Gratiaque aestatis pereunte aestate periret,
Nec species pulchri, nec foret umbra memor.
Sed captis florum lacrimis, ubi bruma recurret
Si deerit species, at remanebit odor.
I, puer, aestatisque tuae breve collige nectar
Ante manu rigida quam spoliarit hiems;
Imple vas aliquod dulcedine, tuque reconde
Ante cupidineas quam moriantur opes.
Haud vetita usura est usus felicior ille
Solvit ubi faenus dulce libenter amor.
'Esto pater' canit hoc, ‘tuaque altera fiat imago,'
O deciens felix tot renovate vices.
Sis deciens, inquam, felix, si dena per ora
Te suboles referat laetificetque patrem.
Quid faciendum ipsi Libitinae deinde relinquis,
Si moriens vivis posteritate tamen?
Cede, puer, monitis; ista omnia tradere leto
Vermibus in praedam te tua forma vetat.
Lo, in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
And having climb'd the steep-up 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 out-going in thy noon,
Unlook'd on diest, unless thou get a son.
Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.
Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly,
Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned 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.
En, ubi sol primum lucis gratissimus auctor
Sustulit effulgens ex oriente caput,
Mortales oculi speciem apparentis adorant
Ore observantes inferiore deum.
Cumque poli acclivis victor super ardua constat
Aetatis mediae viribus ille suis,
At mortale genus speciem veneratur eandem
Omne, sequens aureum voltibus eius iter.
Verum ubi lassatus currum declinat ab axe,
Defugiens senio iam titubante diem,
Haec oculi pietas, tractum aversata cadentem
Solis, ad exortus vertitur inde novos.
Te quoque destituent tua robora, curaque nulli,
Ni subolem generas, emoriere, puer.
Vox liquida, o, cur nam tales tristissimus audis?
Laeta iuvant laetos, dulcia dulcis amat.
Tu quod amas illud tamen auscultare gravaris,
Anne libens audis quod fit in aure dolor?
Si tibi displiceat liquida haec concordia vocum
Mixtaque coniugiis fila canora suis,
Te dulce increpitant, qui consocianda iugali
Foedere perverse dissociata tenes.
Nectit eas, audisne, inter se mutuus ordo,
Ac sonat in chordae chorda marita sono; Sic patris et nati matrisque ex ore beatae
It quasi communis dulcisonusque canor. Verba silent, sed vox a ternis editur una Talis, io, vita caelibe nullus eris.'
Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye
That thou consum'st thyself in single life?
Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
The world will wail thee, like a makeless wife;
The world will be thy widow and still weep
That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
When every private widow well may keep
By children's eyes her husband's shape in mind.
Look, what an unthrift in the world doth spend
Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
But beauty's waste hath in the world an end,
And, kept unused, the user so destroys it.
No love toward others in that bosom sits
That on himself such murderous shame commits.
For shame deny that thou bear'st love to any,
Who for thyself art so unprovident.
Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many,
But that thou none lov'st is most evident;
For thou art so possess'd with murderous hate
That 'gainst thyself thou stick'st 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 kind-hearted prove:
Make thee another self, for love of me,
That beauty still may live in thine or thee.
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