But wherefore do not you a mightier way <br />Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time, <br />And fortify your self in your decay <br />With means more blessèd than my barren rhyme? <br />Now stand you on the top of happy hours, <br />And many maiden gardens yet unset, <br />With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers, <br />Much liker than your painted counterfeit: <br />So should the lines of life that life repair <br />Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen <br />Neither in inward worth nor outward fair <br />Can make you live your self in eyes of men. <br /> To give away your self keeps your self still, <br /> And you must live drawn by your own sweet skill.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-16-but-wherefore-do-not-you-a-mightier-wa/
