Like as the waues make towards the pibled shore,
So do our minuites hasten to their end,
Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toile all forwards do contend.
Natiuity, once in the maine of light,
Crawles to maturity, wherewith being crown'd, Crooked eclipses gainst his glory fight,
And time that gaue, doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfixe the florish set on youth,
And delues the paralels in beauties brow,
Feedes on the rarities of natures truth,
And nothing stands but for his sieth to mow.

And yet to times in hope, my verse shall stand Praising thy worth, dispight his cruell hand.

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end,
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.

And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

 Sweet loue renew thy force, be it not said
Thy edge should blunter be then apetite,
Which but too daie by feeding is alaied,
To morrow sharpned in his former might. 5
So loue be thou, although too daie thou fill
Thy hungrie eies, euen till they winck with fulnesse,
Too morrow see againe, and doe not kill
The spirit of Loue with a perpetual dulnesse:
Let this sad Intrim like the Ocean be 10
Which parts the shore, where two contracted new
Come daily to the banckes, that when they see
Returne of loue, more blest may be the view;

Or cal it Winter, which being ful of care,
Makes Sommers welcome, thrice more wish'd, more rare

Sweet love, renew thy force, be it not said
Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
Which but today by feeding is allayed,
Tomorrow sharpened in his former might;
So, love, be thou, although today thou fill
Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fullness,
Tomorrow see again, and do not kill
The spirit of love with a perpetual dullness;
Let this sad interim like the ocean be
Which parts the shore, where two contracted new
Come daily to the banks, that when they see
Return of love, more blessed may be the view;

Or call it winter, which being full of care,
Makes summer's welcome thrice more wished, more rare.