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William Shakespeare - Sonnet 12:”When I do count the clock that tells the time…”
Work rating: Medium

When I do count the clock that tells the time,
  And see the brave day sunk in hideous night,
  When I behold the violet past prime,
  And sable curls all silvered o`er with white:  
  When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
  Which erst from heat did canopy the herd
  And summer`s green all girded up in sheaves
  Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard:
  Then of thy beauty do I question make
  That thou among the wastes of time must go,
  Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake,
  And die as fast as they see others grow,
    And nothing `gainst Time`s scythe can make defence
    Save breed to brave him, when he takes thee hence.
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