- 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,
- 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;
- 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.