11,112,006,825,558,016 Sonnets

(after Queneau)

As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growest
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend,
But that thou none lovest is most evident;
And having climb'd the steep-up heavenly hill,
Find no determination: then you were
That's for thyself to breed another thee,
Beauty o'ersnow'd and bareness every where:
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament
If ten of thine ten times refigured thee:
Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind,
Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
O, none but unthrifts! Dear my love, you know
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.

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