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Shakespeare's  Sonnet . . .
When I consider every thing that grows


When I consider every thing that grows

Holds in perfect but a little moment,

That this hugh stage presenteth naught but shows,

Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;

When I perceive that men as plants increase,

Cheered and check'd even by the selfsame sky,

Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,

And wear their brave state out of memory;

Then the conceit of this inconstant stay

Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,

Where wasteful time debateth with decay,

To change your day of youth to sullied night;

And, all in war with Time, for love of you,

As he takes from you, I engraft you new.


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