Then let not winter's ragged hand deface,
     In thee thy summer ere thou  be distill'd:
     Make sweet some vial, treasure thou  some place,
     With beautys treasure  ere it be self killed:
     That use is not forbidden usury,
     Which happies those that pay the willing loan,
     Thats for thy self to breed another thee  ,
     Or ten times  happier be it ten for one,
     Ten times thy self were happier than thou art,
     If ten of thine, ten times refigured thee,
     Then what could death do if thou  should'st depart,
     Leaving thee living in posterity;
     Be not self-wild, for thou  art much too fair,
     To be deaths conquest and make worms thine heir.


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