Now in the sad declension of thy time

Now in the sad declension of thy time,

When all the world forsakes and lays thee by,

I but unveil my love, masked in the prime

Of thy transcendent glories. For mine eye,

Judge thee not woman but a deity;

And till those roses blushing on thy cheek,

Those lilies and those violets were seen

To wither thus, till all those sweets we seek

In ruin lay, I could ne'er begin

To court thee without hazard of a sin.

Freed from all rival doubts and jealous fears,

By time's rude hand, those relics I adore;

My flames increase, although thy beauty wears;

And in this temp'rate season love thee more,

Than in that scorching heat that went before.