Sonnet 16: But wherefore do not you a mightier way

But wherefore do not you a mightier wayMake war upon this bloody tyrant, Time,And fortify your self in your decayWith means more blessèd than my barren rhyme?Now stand you on the top of happy hours,And many maiden gardens yet unset,With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers,Much liker than your painted counterfeit:So should the lines of life that life repairWhich this, Time's pencil, or my

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