My glass shall not persuade me I am old...
Sonnet 22My 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 gavest me thine, not to give back again. |
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I won’t believe I’m old so long as you’re still young. Once you’re wrinkled and old, then I’ll look forward to death. My heart lives in you (as yours does in me), and doing so wears all your beauty like gorgeous clothing. How can I then be any older than you?
That’s why you have to be extra careful of yourself, for my sake – just as I’ll be careful of myself for yours: as cautious as a nurse looking after a baby.
Don’t come looking for your own heart back if mine dies [in your care]: you gave me yours for keeps.