CXXIIINo, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:Thy pyramids built up with newer mightTo me are nothing novel, nothing strange;They are but dressings of a former sight.Our dates are brief, and therefore we admireWhat thou dost foist upon us that is old;And rather make them born to our desireThan think that we before have heard them told.Thy registers and thee I both defy,Not wondering at the present nor the past,For thy records and what we see doth lie,Made more or less by thy continual haste.This I do vow and this shall ever be;I will be true despite thy scythe and thee.
No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:Thy pyramids built up with newer mightTo me are nothing novel, nothing strange;They are but dressings of a former sight.Our dates are brief, and therefore we admireWhat thou dost foist upon us that is old;And rather make them born to our desireThan think that we before have heard them told.Thy registers and thee I both defy,Not wondering at the present nor the past,For thy records and what we see doth lie,Made more or less by thy continual haste.This I do vow and this shall ever be;I will be true despite thy scythe and thee.