Analysis of Sonnet I

Dost see how unregarded now
        That piece of beauty passes?
There was a time when I did vow
        To that alone;
    But mark the fate of faces;
The red and white works now no more on me
Than if it could not charm, or I not see.

And yet the face continues good,
        And I have still desires,
Am still the selfsame flesh and blood,
        As apt to melt
    And suffer from those fires;
Oh some kind pow'r unriddle where it lies,
Whether my heart be faulty, or her eyes?

She ev'ry day her man does kill,
        And I as often die;
Neither her power then, nor my will
        Can question'd be.
    What is the mystery?
Sure beauty's empires, like to greater states,
Have certain periods set, and hidden fates.