Sonnet 77
Thy glass will show thee how thy
beauties wear
«William Shakespeare»
Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy
precious minutes waste,
These vacant leaves
thy mind's imprint will bear,
And of this book,
this learning mayst thou taste.
The wrinkles which
thy glass will truly show,
Of mouthed graves
will give thee memory,
Thou by thy dial's
shady stealth mayst know,
Time's thievish
progress to eternity.
Look what thy memory
cannot contain,
Commit to these waste
blanks, and thou shalt find
Those children
nursed, delivered from thy brain,
To take a new
acquaintance of thy mind.
These offices, so oft
as thou wilt look,
Shall profit thee,
and much enrich thy book.
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