A Sonnet (or short poem) from a collection written by William Shakespeare, published in 1609.

#12

Synopsis:

As he observes the motion of the clock and the movement of all living things toward death and decay, the poet faces the fact that the young man’s beauty will be destroyed by Time. Nothing besides offspring, he argues, can defy Time’s scythe.

 

When I do count the clock that tells the time

And see the brave day sunk in hideous night,

When I behold the violet past prime

And sable curls ⌜all⌝ silvered o’er with white;

When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,

Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,

And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves

Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard;

Then of thy beauty do I question make

That thou among the wastes of time must go,

Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake

And die as fast as they see others grow;

 And nothing ’gainst Time’s scythe can make defense

 Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

(Project Gutenberg, Public Domain)