Like as the waves make towards the pebbl'd shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd,
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow: And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand, Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
Form: sonnet: ababcdcdefefgg1-4.
Like as ... contend: from Ovid,
Metamorphoses,
XV, 180-84. 5.
Main of light: main body of light, world of light. 7.
Crooked: malignant.9. flourish: embellishment. 11. rarities of nature's truth: outstanding examples of nature's creative power\; literally of nature's conformity to her own best standard.
Cf.
The Phoenix and Turtle, line 53.13. in hope: to come.
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