When in the chronicle of wasted timeI see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making beautiful old
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have express'd Even such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
And, for they look'd but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing: For we, which now behold these present days, Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
Composition date is unknown - the above date represents the first publication date.
Form: ababcdcdefefgg1. wasted: passed away. 2. wights: persons 5. blazon: description (a heraldic term).
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