Full many a glass and face have I seen
flatter the time, that face, with sovereign eye,
kissing fresh face, repair the meadows green,
beguile world streams with heav’nly alchemy.
Anon, permit so fair whose clouds to ride
with ugly rack the tillage of thy face,
and from the who is he so fond will hide;
stealing his self-love to stop this disgrace.
Even so, mother's glass and morn did shine
with all calls back the lovely on my brow.
But out, thou through windows of one hour mine,
The region wrinkles this mask from me now.
Yet, if thou live my love no disdaineth;
suns die single when heaven's sun staineth.
Taken from Shakespeare's sonnets III and XXXIII
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