名人诗歌|THE SONNETS by William Shakespeare (7)

VII

Lo！ in the orient when the gracious light Lifts up his burning head, each under eye Doth homage^{1 to his new-appearing sight, Serving with looks his sacred majesty2； And having climb'd the steep-up heavenly hill, Re百度竞价推广bling strong youth in his middle age, Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still, Attending on his golden pilgrimage： But when from highmost pitch, with weary car, Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day, The eyes, 'fore3 duteous, now converted are From his low tract4, and look another way： So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon： Unlook'd, on diest unless thou get a son.}