Sonnet 106

　　When in the chronicle of wasted time

　　I see descriptions of the fairest wights，

　　And beauty making beautiful old rhyme

　　In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights；

　　Then in the blazon 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 praises are but prophecies

　　Of this our time，all you prefigur