To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I ey'd,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold,
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd,
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure, and no pace perceiv'd;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceiv'd:
For fear of which, hear this thou age unbred:
Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.
The Sonnets Civ - To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old
William Shakespeare
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Poem topics: autumn, fear, friend, green, never, pride, summer, fresh, sweet, hear, cold, stand, yellow, april, april fools, beauty, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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