Sonnet 127

　　In the old age black was not counted fair，

　　Or if it were，it bore not beauty's name；

　　But now is black beauty's successive heir，

　　And beauty slandered with a bastard shame：

　　For since each hand hath put on nature's power，

　　Fairing the foul with art's false borrowed face，

　　Sweet beauty hath no name，no holy bower，

　　But is profaned，if not lives in disgrace.

　　Therefore my mistress'eyes are raven-black，

　　Her brow so suited，and