Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o‘er-snowed and bareness every where:
Then were not summer‘s distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty‘s effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was:
    But flowers distill‘d, though they with winter meet,
    Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.

In this sonnet by William Shakespeare, the poet reflects upon the passage of time and its effect on beauty. The opening lines describe how the hours, personified as gentle workers, have created a beautiful gaze that captivates every eye. However, as time passes, it becomes a tyrant, diminishing the beauty that once excelled. Time leads from the vibrant summer to the harsh winter, where the sap is frozen, leaves wither, and beauty is covered in snow, leaving a barren landscape.

The poet contemplates how, without the distilled essence of summer left, beauty would be lost, with no memory of what it once was. However, the poet concludes that flowers, despite meeting winter, only lose their outward appearance, while their essence continues to live on, remaining sweet.

Shakespeare’s sonnet explores the transient nature of beauty and the enduring essence that lies beneath its surface. It serves as a reminder that while external beauty may fade over time, the inner substance and essence can persevere.