William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Sonnet Lxiii - Poem by William Shakespeare

Against my love shall be, as I am now,
With Time's injurious hand crush'd and o'er-worn;
When hours have drain'd his blood and fill'd his brow
With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
Hath travell'd on to age's steepy night,
And all those beauties whereof now he's king
Are vanishing or vanish'd out of sight,
Stealing away the treasure of his spring;
For such a time do I now fortify
Against confounding age's cruel knife,
That he shall never cut from memory
My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life:
His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
And they shall live, and he in them still green.


Comments about Sonnet Lxiii by William Shakespeare

  • Brian Jani (4/26/2014 10:44:00 AM)


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

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Read poems about / on: beauty, memory, spring, green, time, night, love, life, sonnet



Poem Submitted: Monday, May 21, 2001

Poem Edited: Monday, May 21, 2001


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