by: William Shakespeare
      DevouringEVOURING time, blunt thou the lion's paws,
      And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
      Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
      And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood;
      Make glad and sorry seasons as they fleet'st,
      And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
      To the wide world and all her fading sweets,
      But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
      O, carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
      Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
      Him in thy course untainted do allow
      For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.
      Yet do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
      My love shall in my verse ever live young.