Sonnet 122
Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brainFull character'd with lasting memory,Which shall above that idle rank remain,Beyond all date; even to eternity:
Or, at the least, so long as brain and heartHave faculty by nature to subsist;Till each to raz'd oblivion yield his partOf thee, thy record never can be miss'd.
That poor retention could not so much hold,Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score;Therefore to give them from me was I bold,To trust those tables that receive thee more:
To keep an adjunct to remember theeWere to import forgetfulness in me.