William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

That time of year thou mayst in me behold (Sonnet 73)


That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals all up in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the deathbed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

Submitted: Monday, January 20, 2003

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Read poems about / on: sunset, fire, death, night, time, love, sonnet

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  • Rookie - 21 Points Raabia Tabassum (12/22/2013 8:57:00 AM)

    This is a very amazing poem. :)
    Really loved this line the most
    Death's second self, that seals all up in rest. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Mark Mattson (11/17/2011 7:49:00 PM)

    I have loved this poem from my first reading 50 years ago. It is as perfect in itself as Bach's Chaconne. It contains several of my favorite things: Autumn, choir - in both meanings, twilight - that between time and thus the tension, and of course, a lesson on love. (Report) Reply

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