# Newsletters > Shakespeare's Sonnet-a-Day >  Sonnet #2

## Admin

Sonnet #2

II.br /br /When forty winters shall beseige thy brow,br /And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,br /Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now,br /Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held:br /Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies,br /Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,br /To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,br /Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.br /How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,br /If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of minebr /Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,'br /Proving his beauty by succession thine!br /This were to be new made when thou art old,br /And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.

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