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言語
Thou would draw our intimate words with sunbeam ink and bough paint brush on the yard,
By reeds in rank here rests a rodent king;
آہ کو چاہیے اک عمر اثر ہونے تک
Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all:
No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Devouring time, blunt thou the lion's paws
When I consider everything that grows
When I do count the clock that tells the time,
From fairest creatures we desire increase,
Even as the sun with purple-colour’d face