William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Sonnet Cvii: Not Mine Own Fears, Nor The Prophetic Soul - Poem by William Shakespeare

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Suppos'd as forfeit to a confin'd doom.
The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur'd
And the sad augurs mock their own presage;
Incertainties now crown themselves assur'd
And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
Now with the drops of this most balmy time
My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,
Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme,
While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes;
And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.


Comments about Sonnet Cvii: Not Mine Own Fears, Nor The Prophetic Soul by William Shakespeare

  • Rookie - 184 Points Brian Jani (4/26/2014 9:25:00 AM)

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

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rookie - 10 Points Egal Bohen (9/28/2006 8:51:00 AM)

    Timeless and enduring (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: sad, moon, peace, death, world, time, love, sonnet, dream, fear



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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