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When I do count the clock that tells the time,When I do count the clock that tells the time
When I do count the clock that tells the time, And see the brave day sunk in hideous night; When I behold the violet past prime, And sable curls all silver’d o’er with white; When lofty trees I see barren of leaves Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard, 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; And nothing ‘gainst Time’s scythe can make defence Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
When I count the clock that shows the time, And see the brave day sink into ugly night; When I see the violet flower past its best, And black hair turned completely white; When I see tall trees without leaves That once shaded the animals from heat, And summer's greenery bundled up in stacks Carried on the frame with white and spiky beard, Then I question your beauty, That you must also pass with time, Since sweet things and beauty abandon themselves And die as quickly as others grow; And nothing can defend against Time's scythe Except having children to challenge him when he takes you away.