When I consider every thing that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment$$$
That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;

Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep.

O! How much more doth beauty beauteous seem
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!

On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.

Then of thy beauty do I question make$$$
That thou among the wastes of time must go$$$
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake$$$
And die as fast as they see others grow.

But if thou live$$$ remember'd not to be$$$ Die single and thine image dies with thee.

But thou art all my art$$$ and dost advance
As high as learning my rude ignorance.

Take all my loves$$$ my love$$$ yea$$$ take them all;
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?

To give yourself away keep yourself still$$$
And you must live drawn by your own sweet skill.

Their images I loved I view in thee
And thou$$$ all they$$$ hast all the all of me.