When I consider that every living thing holds its state of perfection for only a brief moment; that this huge stage, the world, presents only sham performances, which the stars secretly influence; when I realise that men grow like plants, encouraged and inhibited by the same weather, show off when flushed with youthful sap, then declining when full grown, wearing away until their youth has been forgotten; then the consideration of this short, unpredictable life makes me see you as rich in youth in the face of the plans of Time and Decay to change your day of youth to dingy night. And, at war with Time because of my love for you, as he's taking from you I'm renewing you in my poetry.