Shakespeare's Sonnets: Against my love shall be as I am now

Against my love shall be as I am nowWith time's injurious hand crush't and o'er-worn,When hours have drain'd his blood and fill'd his browWith lines and wrinkles, when his youthful mornHath travail'd on to age's steepy night,And all those beauties whereof now he's kingAre vanishing, or vanish't out of sight,Stealing away the treasure of his spring.For such a time do I now fortifyAgainst confounding age's cruel knife,That he shall never cut from memoryMy sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life. His beauty shall in these black lines be seen, And they shall live, and he in them still green.