Sonnet 77

1 Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
2 Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste,
3 These vacant leaves thy mind’s imprint will bear,
4 And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste.
5 The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show,
6 Of mouthed graves will give thee memory,
7 Thou by thy dial’s shady stealth mayst know,
8 Time’s thievish progress to eternity.
9 Look what thy memory cannot contain,
10 Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
11 Those children nursed, delivered from thy brain,
12 To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.
13 These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
14 Shall profit thee, and much enrich thy book.