William Shakespeare(1564–1616)

Sonnet 106

W h e n in the chronicle of wasted 0 timepast; destroyed

I see descriptions of the fairest wights,persons

And beauty making beautiful old rhyme

In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,

Then, in the blazon8 of sweet beauty's best,

Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,

I see their antique pen would have expressed

Even such a beauty as you master now.

So all their p r a i s e s are but prophecies

Of this our time, all you prefiguring;

And, for they looked but 0 with divining eyes,because I only

T h e y h a d n o t skill e n o u g h your worth to sing:

For we, which now behold these present days,

H a v e eyes to wonder, b u t l a c k tongues to praise.