| MY glass shall not persuade me I am old | |
| So long as youth and thou are of one date; | |
| But when in thee time’s furrows I behold, | |
| Then look I death my days should expiate. | |
| For all that beauty that doth cover thee | 5 |
| Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, | |
| Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me: | |
| How can I then, be elder than thou art? | |
| O! therefore, love, be of thyself so wary | |
| As I, not for myself, but for thee will; | 10 |
| Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary | |
| As tender nurse her babe from faring ill. | |
| Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain; | |
| Thou gav’st me thine, not to give back again. |