Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend <br /> Upon thyself thy beauty's legacy? <br /> Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend, <br /> And being frank she lends to those are free. <br /> Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse <br /> The bounteous largess given thee to give? <br /> Profitless usurer, why dost thou use <br /> So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live? <br /> For having traffic with thyself alone, <br /> Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive. <br /> Then how, when nature calls thee to be gone, <br /> What acceptable audit canst thou leave? <br /> Thy unused beauty must be tomb'd with thee, <br /> Which, used, lives th' executor to be.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-iv/
