To the Shaddow. Sonnet. 13 (Sonnet 13)

LEtters and lines we see are soone defaced,
Mettells do waste, and fret with cankers rust,
The Diamond shall once consume to dust;
And freshest colours with fowle staines disgraced,
Paper and incke, can paint but naked words,
To write with blood, offorce offends the sight,
And if with teares, I finde them all too light,
And sighes and signes, a seely hope affords.
O sweetest shadow, how thou seru'st my turne,
Which still shalt be, as long as there is sunne,
Nor whilst the world is, neuer shall be done,
Whilst Moone shall shine, or any fire shall burne:
That euery thing whence shadow doth proceede,
May in his shadow, my loues story reede,