Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear, <br />Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste; <br />The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear, <br />And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste. <br />The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show <br />Of mouthed graves will give thee memory; <br />Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know <br />Time's thievish progress to eternity. <br />Look what thy memory cannot contain, <br />Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find <br />Those children nursed, deliver'd from thy brain, <br />To take a new acquaintance of thy mind. <br />These offices, so oft as thou wilt look, <br />Shall profit thee and much enrich thy book.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-77-thy-glass-will-show-thee-how-thy-beauties-wear/
