Unthrifty loveliness,

why dost thou spend,

Upon thy self

thy beauty's legacy?

Nature's bequest

gives nothing

but doth lend,

And being frank she lends to

those are free:

Then beauteous niggard

why dost thou abuse,

The bounteous largess

given thee to give?

Profitless usurer why dost thou use

So great a sum of sums

yet canst not live?

For having traffic

with thy self alone,

Thou of thy self

thy sweet self

dost deceive,

Then how when nature

calls thee to be gone,

What acceptable audit

canst thou leave?

Thy unused beauty

must be tombed

with thee,

Which used lives

th' executor to be.