Sonnet CXXIII

No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:	1
Thy pyramids built up with newer might	2
To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;	3
They are but dressings of a former sight.	4
Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire	5
What thou dost foist upon us that is old,	6
And rather make them born to our desire	7
Than think that we before have heard them told.	8
Thy registers and thee I both defy,	9
Not wondering at the present nor the past,	10
For thy records and what we see doth lie,	11
Made more or less by thy continual haste.	12
This I do vow and this shall ever be;	13
I will be true, despite thy scythe and thee.	14