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 n***ard, 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