Sonnet 5

Those howers that with gentle worke did frame,

The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell

Will play the tirants to the very same,

And that unfaire which farely doth excell:

For never resting time leads Summer on,

To hidious winter and confounds him there,

Sap checkt with frost and lustie leav's quite gon.

Beauty ore-snow'd and barenes every where,

Then were not summers distillation left,

A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glasse,

Beauties effect with beauty were bereft,

Nor it nor noe remembrance what it was.

But flowers distil'd though they with winter meet

Leese but their show, their substance still lives sweet.