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William Shakespeare (1564–1616).  The Oxford Shakespeare: Poems.  1914.

Sonnet LXIII.

“Against my love shall be as I am now”


AGAINST my love shall be, as I am now 
With Time’s injurious hand crush’d and o’erworn; 
When hours have drain’d his blood and fill’d his brow 
With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn 
Hath travell’d on to age’s steepy night;         5
And all those beauties whereof now he ’s king 
Are vanishing or vanish’d out of sight, 
Stealing away the treasure of his spring; 
For such a time do I now fortify 
Against confounding age’s cruel knife,  10
That he shall never cut from memory 
My sweet love’s beauty, though my lover’s life: 
  His beauty shall in these black lines be seen, 
  And they shall live, and he in them still green. 


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