Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother,
For where is she so fair whose unear'd womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
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 shall see
Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
But if thou live, remember'd not to be,
Die single, and thine image dies with thee.
Look in your mirror and tell the face you see
That now is the time it should form another [create a child];
If you do not renew yourself,
You rob the world, and prevent some woman from becoming a mother.
For where is the woman whose unploughed womb
Would frown upon the way you plough your field?
Or who is he so foolish to love himself so much but let
Himself perish? [To make a tomb of self-love and not have a child to carry on his beauty?]
You are the mirror of your mother, and she is the mirror of you
And in you she recalls the lovely April of her youth:
So too will you see when you are old,
Free of wrinkles [now], these are your best years.
But if you live your life avoiding being remembered.
You will die childless, and your image will die with you.
Please click here for explanatory notes.
How to cite this article:
Shakespeare, William. Sonnet 3. Ed. Amanda Mabillard. Shakespeare Online. 20 Aug. 2000. (date when you accessed the information) < http://www.shakespeare-online.com/sonnets/3detail.html >.
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