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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