• No, time thou shalt not boast that I do change:
    Thy pyramids built up with newer might
    To me are are nothing novel, nothing strange,
    They are but dressings of a former sight:
    Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire
    What thou hast foist upon us that is old,
    And rather make them born to our desire
    Than think that we before have heard them told
    Thy registers and thee I both defy,
    Not wondering at the present or the past
    For thy records and what we see doth lie,
    And more or less by thy continual haste: 
    This I do vow and this shall ever be
    I will be true, despite thy scythe and thee.



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