“O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odor which doth in it live. The canker-blooms have fullas deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses, Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly When summer's breath their masked buds discloses. But, for their virtue only is their show. They live unwooed and unrespected fade, Die to themselves. Sweet rosesdo not so; Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odors made. And so of you, beauteous andlovely youth, When that shall vade, by verse distills your truth”
