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 confoun
Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend Upon thyself thy beauty's legacy? Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend, And being frank, she lends to those are free. Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse The bounteous la