1593 or after by uncertain 
Spes Altera alternative version of Sonnet 2 

1	When forty winters shall besiege thy brow
2	And trench deep furrows in that lovely field,
3	Thy youth’s fair liv’ry, so accounted now,
4	Shall be like rotten weeds of no worth held.
5	Then being asked where all thy beauty lies,
6	Where all the lustre of thy youthful days,
7	To say “Within these hollow sunken eyes”
8	Were an all-eaten truth and worthless praise.
9	O how much better were thy beauty’s use
10	If thou couldst say “This pretty child of mine
11	Saves my account and makes my old excuse”,
12	Making his beauty by succession thine.
13	This were to be new born when thou art old,
14	And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold.