That thou art blane shall not be by defect, for slander's mark was ever yet the fair. The ornament of beauty is suspect to crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air. So thou be good, slander death but approved thy worth the greater, being wood of time. For cance of ice the sweetest buds death love, and thou presents to pure and stenid prime. Thou hast passed by the ambush of young days either not assailed, or victor being charged. Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise, to tie up envy evermore enlarged. If some suspect of ill-masked not thy show, then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst o.