Sonnet 106 ~ W. Shakespeare

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 express'd

Even such a beauty as you master now.

So all their praises are but prophecies

Of this our time all you prefiguring,

And for they looked but with divining eyes,

They had not still enough your worth to sing.

For we, which now behold these present days

Have eyes to wonder but lack tongues to praise.

Sonnet 106 by William Shakespeare

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fragments from a manuscript