Sonnet LXVIII
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Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, | 1
When beauty lived and died as flowers do now, | 2
Before the bastard signs of fair were born, | 3
Or durst inhabit on a living brow; | 4
Before the golden tresses of the dead, | 5
The right of sepulchres, were shorn away, | 6
To live a second life on second head; | 7
Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay: | 8
In him those holy antique hours are seen, | 9
Without all ornament, itself and true, | 10
Making no summer of another's green, | 11
Robbing no old to dress his beauty new; | 12
And him as for a map doth Nature store, | 13
To show false Art what beauty was of yore. | 14
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