When in the chronicle of wasted time... (Sonnet CVI) Lyrics

When in the chronicle of wasted time

I see descriptions of the fairest wights

And beauty making beautiful old rhyme

In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights

Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best

Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow

I see their antique pen would have expressed

Even such a beauty as you master now

So all their praises are but prophecies

Of this our time, all you prefiguring

And, for they looked but with divining eyes

They had not skill enough your worth to sing

For we, which now behold these present days

Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise

So all their praises are but prophecies

Of this our time, all you prefiguring

And, for they looked but with divining eyes

They had not skill enough your worth to sing

So all their praises are but prophecies

Of this our time, all you prefiguring

And, for they looked but with divining eyes

They had not skill enough your worth to sing

So all their praises are but prophecies

Of this our time, all you prefiguring

And, for they looked but with divining eyes

They had not skill enough your worth to sing