My sonnet is by Samuel Daniel. It is in his Beauty, Time, and Love Sonnets.
| Beauty, sweet Love, is like the morning dew, | |
| Whose short refresh upon the tender green | |
| Cheers for a time, but till the sun doth show, | |
| And straight ’tis gone as it had never been. | 60 |
| Soon doth it fade that makes the fairest flourish, | |
| Short is the glory of the blushing rose; | |
| The hue which thou so carefully dost nourish, | |
| Yet which at length thou must be forced to lose. | |
| When thou, surcharged with burthen of thy years, | 65 |
| Shalt bend thy wrinkles homeward to the earth; | |
| And that, in Beauty’s Lease expired, appears | |
| The Date of Age, the Calends of our Death— | |
| But ah, no more!—this must not be foretold, | |
| For women grieve to think they must be old. | 70 |
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