That image shapen of pure mountain stone
Outlive the life that did with life endow?
Before effect the very cause doth bow,
And Art is crowned in Nature’s deep despair.
I know, and prove it, carving form so fair,
That Time and Death admire, and break their vow.
Power, therefore, I possess, to grant us twain
Estate, in color, or in marble cold,
That spent a thousand summers, shall remain
The face of either, and all eyes behold