William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Sonnet 104: To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old - Poem by William Shakespeare

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I ey'd,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold,
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd,
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure, and no pace perceiv'd;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceiv'd:
For fear of which, hear this thou age unbred:
Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.

Form: Sonnet


Comments about Sonnet 104: To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old by William Shakespeare

  • Rookie - 59 Points Brian Jani (4/26/2014 5:12:00 AM)

    Awesome I like this poem, check mine out (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Poem Edited: Tuesday, December 9, 2014


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