1 In the old age black was not counted fair,
2 Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;
3 But now is black beauty's successive heir,
4 And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame:
5 For since each hand hath put on nature's power,
6 Fairing the foul with art's false borrow'd face,
7 Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,
8 But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.
9 Therefore my mistress' eyes are raven black,
10 Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem
11 At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,
12 Slandering creation with a false esteem:
13 Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe,
14 That every tongue says beauty should look so.