Sonnet 104 by william shakespeare to me, fair friend, you never can be old, for as you were when first your eye i eyed, such seems your beauty still. three winters cold have from the forests shook three summers' pride, three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd in process of the seasons have i seen, three april perfumes in three hot junes burn'd, since first i saw you fresh, which yet are green. ah, yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand, steal from his figure and no pace perceived; so your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand, hath motion and mine eye may be deceived: for fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred; ere you were born was beauty's summer dead. the final two lines of the poem form a(n) iambic pentameter couplet quatrain diamante sonnet