Thus Is His Cheek The Map Of Days Outworn, When Beauty Lived And Died As Flowers Do Now, Before These Bastard Signs Of Fair Were Born, Or Durst Inhabit On A Living Brow; Before The Golden Tresses Of The Dead, The Right Of Sepulchres, Were Shorn Away, To Live A Second Life On Second Head; Ere Beauty'S Dead Fleece Made Another Gay: In Him Those Holy Antique Hours Are Seen, Without All Ornament, Itself And True, Making No Summer Of Another'S Green, Robbing No Old To Dress His Beauty New; And Him As For A Map Doth Nature Store, To Show False Art What Beauty Was Of Yore.