Shakespeare. No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:
1710 Thy pyramids built up with newer might
To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;
They are but dressings of a former sight.
Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire
What thou dost foist upon us that is old,
1715 And rather make them born to our desire
Than 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,
1720 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.