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Sonnet 77

            ,            ,          ,          ,         ,
      Thy glass | will show | thee how | thy beaut|ies wear,
           ,     ,         ,         ,         ,
      Thy di|al how | thy pre|cious min|utes waste;
           ,         ,           ,          ,            ,
      The vac|ant leaves | thy mind's | imprint | will bear,
           ,          ,           ,         ,            ,
      And of | this book,| this learn|ing mayst | thou taste.
            ,         ,           ,           ,       ,
      The wrink|les which | thy glass | will tru|ly show
           ,         ,            ,          ,    ,
      Of mouth|ed graves | will give | thee mem|ory;
        ,            ,        ,       ,              ,
      Thou by | thy di|al's shad|y stealth | mayst^know
        T       Tx     T    ,           ,    ,
      Time's thievish pro|gress to | etern|ity.
        ,              ,    ,       ,         ,
      Look what | thy mem|ory | cannot | contain,
          ,     .   T     T      T           ,            ,
      Commit | to these waste blacks,| and thou | shalt find
              ,          ,        ,         ,          ,
      Those^child|ren nursed,| deliv|ered from | thy brain,
           ,       ,         ,         ,         ,
      To take | a new | acquaint|ance of | thy mind.
             ,    ,        ,         ,           ,
      These of|fices,| so oft | as thou | wilt look,
             ,        ,          ,        ,          ,
      Shall prof|it thee,| and much | enrich | thy book.

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