Verse > Anthologies > Robert Bridges, ed. > The Spirit of Man: An Anthology
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Robert Bridges, ed. (1844–1930).  The Spirit of Man: An Anthology.  1916.
 
Sonnet XCVII

William Shakespeare (1564–1616)
 
HOW 1 like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December’s bareness everywhere!
And yet this time remov’d was summer’s time;        5
The teeming autumn big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime,
Like widow’d wombs after their lord’s decease:
Yet this abundant issue seem’d to me
But hope of orphans and unfather’d fruit;        10
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute;
  Or, if they sing, ’t is with so dull a cheer
  That leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near.
 
Note 1. Shakespeare. Sonnet XCVII. [back]
 
 
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