Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
And having climb’d the steep-up heavenly hill,
Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
Attending on his golden pilgrimage;
But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,
Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,
The eyes, ‘fore duteous, now converted are
From his low tract and look another way:
So thou, thyself out-going in thy noon,
Unlook’d on diest, unless thou get a son.
Sonnet 7: Translation to modern English
Look! In the east when the glorious sun raises his burning head, all men’s eyes pay tribute to his new, fresh appearance, serving his majesty with looks of awe. And having climbed that steep hill to heaven like a strong youth in the prime of life, mortals still worship his beauty as they watch his golden climb into the sky. But when he staggers away, old and feeble, from his highest point with weary horses, the eyes that were dutiful before, now turn away from him and look elsewhere. So you, yourself, declining from your noonday glory, will die disregarded, unless you beget a son.