Sonnet 26.

I Once may I see when yeares may wrecke my wrong,
And golden haires may change to siluer wyer,
And those bright rayes (that kindle all this fier)
Shall faile in force, their power not so strong.

Her beautie, now the burden of my song,
VVhose glorious blaze the worlds eie doth admire,
Must yeeld her praise to tirant times desire,
Then fades the flower which fed her pride so long.

VVhen if she grieue to gaze her in her glasse,
VVhich then presents her winter withred hieu,
Goe you my verse, goe tell her what she was:
For what she was, she best may finde in you.
Your fierie heate lets not her glorie passe,
But Phoenix like to make her liue anew.