- 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, deliver’d 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.