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| SONNET 4 |
| Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend |
| Upon thyself thy beauty's legacy? |
| Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend, |
| And being frank she lends to those are free. |
| Then, beauteous niggard, 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 thyself alone, |
| Thou of thyself 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 tomb'd with thee, |
| Which, used, lives th' executor to be. |
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