1593-1603 by Shakespeare 
Sonnet 54 

1	O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
2	By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
3	The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
4	For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
5	The canker blooms have full as deep a dye
6	As the perfumèd tincture of the roses,
7	Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly
8	When summer’s breath their maskèd buds discloses#
9	But for their virtue only is their show
10	They live unwooed and unrespected fade,
11	Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so#
12	Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:
13	And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
14	When that shall fade, by verse distils your truth.