Sonnet 22. My glass shall not persuade me I am old

My glass shall not persuade me I am old

So long as youth and thou are of one date;

But when in thee time's furrows I behold

Then look I death my days should expiate.

For all that beauty that doth cover thee

Is but the seemly raiment of my heart

Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:

How can I then be elder than thou art?