So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. For the rose shall never love the thorn, Shall sleep in beauty’s shade, on life’s fair scorn. From death’s spark to blaze its tale, If love was nought, the fair would pale.
Time shall honor the seat of grace, Enshrined in beauty’s brilliant place. For what one lives to seek will hold, This tale of love dare not grow cold; On memory of days that cannot last, May spring blooms flourish when autumn’s passed.
— To the Beauty of Love
- William Shakespeare