Whilst thus my pen strives to eternize thee, <br />Age rules my lines with wrinkles in my face, <br />Where in the map of all my misery <br />Is modell'd out the world of my disgrace. <br />Whilst, in despite of tyrannizing times, <br />Medea-like, I make thee young again, <br />Proudly thou scorn'st my world-outwearing rhymes <br />And murtherest virtue with thy coy disdain. <br />And though in youth my youth untimely perish, <br />To keep thee from oblivion and the grave <br />Ensuing ages yet my rhymes shall cherish, <br />When I entomb'd, my better part shall save; <br />And though this earthly body fade and die, <br />My name shall mount upon eternity.<br /><br />Michael Drayton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xliv-whilst-thus-my-pen/
