Sonnet 11

1 As fast as thou shalt wane so fast thou grow’st,
2 In one of thine, from that which thou departest,
3 And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow’st,
4 Thou mayst call thine, when thou from youth convertest,
5 Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase,
6 Without this folly, age, and cold decay,
7 If all were minded so, the times should cease,
8 And threescore year would make the world away:
9 Let those whom nature hath not made for store,
10 Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:
11 Look whom she best endowed, she gave thee more;
12 Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:
13 She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
14 Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.