Shakespeare's Sonnets: When in the chronicle of wastèd time

When in the chronicle of wastèd timeI see descriptions of the fairest wightsAnd beauty making beautiful old rhymeIn praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights,Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,I see their antique pen would have express'tEv'n such a beauty as you master now.So all their praises are but prophesiesOf this our time, all you prefiguring,And for they look'd but with divining eyes,They had not still enough your worth to sing: For we which now behold these present days Have eyes to wonder but lack tongues to praise.