William Shakespeare(1564–1616)

Sonnet 3

Look in thy glass 0 and tell the face thou viewest,

Now is the time that face should form another,

Whose fresh repair 0 if now thou not renewest,condition

Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.

For where is she so fair whose uneared9 womb

Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry

Or who is he so fond will be the tombfoolish

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,

Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.

But if thou live rememb'red not to be,

Die single, and thine image dies with thee.