Sonnet 68

　　Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn，

　　When beauty lived and died as flowers do now，

　　Before these bastard signs of fair were born

　　Or durst inhabit on a living brow；

　　Before the golden tresses of the dead，

　　The right of sepulchres，were shorn away

　　To live a second life on second head；

　　Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay·

　　In him those holy antique hours are seen

　　Without all ornament，itself a