时光老人的小镰刀—— 一个个钟头；
Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle hour,
在衰老途中你成长，并由此显出来
Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'st
你的密友们在枯萎，而你在盛开！
Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow'st;
假如大自然，那统治兴衰的大君主，
If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack,
见你走一步，就把你拖回一步，
As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back,
那她守牢你就为了使她的技巧
She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill
能贬低时间，能杀死渺小的分秒。
May Time disgrace and wretched minutes kill.
可是你——她的宠儿呵，你也得怕她；
Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure;
她只能暂留你、不能永保你做宝匣。
She may detain, but not still keep her treasure.
她的账不能不算清，虽然延了期，
Her audit, though delayed, answered must be,
她的债务要偿清，只有放弃你。
And her quietus is to render thee.