Luyện nghe bài hát Vi. Sun Ascension B - (sonnet Cxxvi)

O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy
Dost hold Time's glass, his sickle, hour;
Who hast by waning grown, and therein
Thy lovers withering as thy sweet self
If Nature, mistress over wrack,
As thou goest onwards, still will thee back,
She keeps to this purpose, that her skill
May time disgrace and minutes kill.
Yet fear her, O minion of her pleasure!
She may detain, but not keep, her treasure:
Her audit, though delay'd, must be,
And her is to render thee.