Sonnet 3

Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewestNow is the time that face should form another;Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother, 4For where is she so fair whose unear'd wombDisdains the tillage of thy husbandry?Or who is he so fond will be the tombOf his self-love, to stop posterity? 8Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in theeCalls back the lovely April of her prime;So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time. 12But if thou live, remember'd not to be,Die single, and thine image dies with thee.

3 fresh repair: healthful state5 unear'd: untitled7 fond: foolish13 remember'd not to be: not caring to be remembered