William Shakespeare, Sonnet iii
Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest,
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
4
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb [*]
8
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime:
So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
12
Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.
But if thou live, remember'd not to be,
Die single, and thine image dies with thee.
Notes
line 5:
line 7: Fond: foolish [ Back to text ]
Most notes to Shakespeare's sonnets are from Charles Knight's edition, but those in square brackets are mine.