“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.”