My glasse shall not perswade me I am ould,
So long as youth and thou are of one date,
But when in thee times forrwes I behould,
Then look I death my daies should expiate:
For all that beauty that doth couer thee
Is but the seemely rayment of my heart,
Which in thy brest doth liue, as thine in me,
How can I then be elder then thou art?
O therefore, loue, be of thy selfe so wary
As I not for my selfe, but for thee will,
Bearing thy heart, which I will keepe so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill:
Presume not on thy heart when mine is slaine,
Thou gau’st me thine not to giue backe againe.
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.