Page 1957 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

11 IT

As fast thou shalt wane so fast thou grow’st

In one of thine from that which thou departest,
And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow’st
Thou may’st call thine when thou from youth convertest.
Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase,

Without this, folly, age, and cold decay:
If all were minded so the times should cease
And threescore year would make the world away.
Let those whom nature hath not made for store,

Harsh, featureless and rude, barrenly perish:
Look, whom she best endowed she gave the more,
Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:
She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby

Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.