春天和夏天的美都没有我在一张秋天的脸上所见过的那么优美。年轻的美人强迫我们相爱，那是强奸;这不过是劝告，你却逃不掉。如果爱是一种耻辱，在这里也没有;爱在这里以崇敬之名。她的头几年是黄金时代吗?那是真的，但现在她是久经考验的新人。这是她可以忍受的热带气候。美丽的眼睛，谁要求更多的热量，而不是来自自己，他在发烧时希望瘟疫。不要把这些皱纹叫做坟墓;如果那是坟墓，那也是爱的坟墓，否则他就无处可去。 Yet lies not Love dead here, but here doth sit Vow'd to this trench, like an anachorit; And here till hers, which must be his death, come, He doth not dig a grave, but build a tomb. Here dwells he; though he sojourn ev'rywhere In progress, yet his standing house is here: Here where still evening is, not noon nor night, Where no voluptuousness, yet all delight. In all her words, unto all hearers fit, You may at revels, you at council, sit. This is Love's timber, youth his underwood; There he, as wine in June, enrages blood, Which then comes seasonabliest when our taste And appetite to other things is past. Xerxes' strange Lydian love, the platan tree, Was lov'd for age, none being so large as she, Or else because, being young, nature did bless Her youth with age's glory, barrenness. If we love things long sought, age is a thing Which we are fifty years in compassing; If transitory things, which soon decay, Age must be loveliest at the latest day. But name not winter faces, whose skin's slack, Lank as an unthrift's purse, but a soul's sack; Whose eyes seek light within, for all here's shade; Whose mouths are holes, rather worn out than made; Whose every tooth to a several place is gone, To vex their souls at resurrection: Name not these living death's-heads unto me, For these, not ancient, but antique be. I hate extremes, yet I had rather stay With tombs than cradles, to wear out a day. Since such love's natural lation is, may still My love descend, and journey down the hill, Not panting after growing beauties. So, I shall ebb on with them who homeward go.