| SONNET 22 |
PARAPHRASE |
| My glass shall not persuade me I am old, |
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| So long as youth and thou are of one date; |
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| But when in thee time's furrows I behold, |
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| Then look I death my days should expiate. |
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| For all that beauty that doth cover thee |
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| Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, |
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| Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me: |
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| How can I then be elder than thou art? |
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| O, therefore, love, be of thyself so wary |
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| As I, not for myself, but for thee will; |
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| Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary |
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| As tender nurse her babe from faring ill. |
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| Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain; |
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| Thou gavest me thine, not to give back again. |
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