Volta project, day six

Back from Ann Arbor.  Here’s sonnet six:

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VI

  Then let not winter's ragged hand deface,

  In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd:

  Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place

  With beauty's treasure ere it be self-kill'd.

  That use is not forbidden usury,

  Which happies those that pay the willing loan;

  That's for thy self to breed another thee,

  Or ten times happier, be it ten for one;

  Ten times thy self were happier than thou art,

  If ten of thine ten times refigur'd thee:

  Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart,

  Leaving thee living in posterity?

    Be not self-will'd, for thou art much too fair

    To be death's conquest and make worms thine heir.

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Hiding the indicative (and the math!) between a pair of imperatives and an interrogative  J

The volta is … the for in the penultimate line? 

And:  The last line really carries some serious weight!