LXIII. Against my love shall be as I am now
        
          Against my love shall be as I am now,
          With Time 's injurious hand crush'd and o'erworn;
          When hours have drain'd his blood and fill'd his brow
          With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
          Hath travell'd on to age 's steepy night;
          And all those beauties whereof now he 's king
          Are vanishing, or vanished out of sight,
          Stealing away the treasure of his spring;
          For such a time do I now fortify
          Against confounding age 's cruel knife,
          That he shall never cut from memory
          My sweet love 's beauty, though my lover 's life:
          		 His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
          		 And they shall live, and he in them still green.