(Based on Shakespeare's Sonnet XVI)
But wherefore did you manage in mighty way
To war upon that bloody tyrant, Time?
You fortified yourself from all decay
With means more blessed than all Elven rhyme.
Now stand you on the end of happy hours;
Past countless fading gardens, yet unset,
Your virtue and peace bloom like living flowers,
Much truer than all painted counterfeits;
So did the lines of fate your Ring repair'd,
In this, Time's eddy, hidden peaceful vale,
Both filled with inward worth, and outward fair.
You gave away yourself, kept yourself stilled;
And now must sail, drawn by your own ring'd skill.