第13章 致爱人（2/2）

只用那眼惊叹，却无法开口歌颂。

Whenthe icle of wasted ti

I see descriptions of the fairest wights，

Ay akg beautiful old rhy

In praise of dies dead， and lovely knights；

Thenthe bzon of sweet beautys best

Of hand， of foot， of lip， of eye， of brow，

I see their antique pen would have exprest

Evn such a beauty as you aster now.

So all their praises are but prophecies

Of this our ti， all yurg；

And， for they lookd but with divg eyes，

They had not kill enough your worth to sg：

Forbehold these present days，

Have eyes to wonder， but ck too praise.