Robert Bridges, ed. (1844–1930). The Spirit of Man: An Anthology. 1916. | | | | Sonnet XII |
William Shakespeare (1564–1616) |
| | | WHEN 1 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 silver’d o’er with white; | |
| When lofty trees I see barren of leaves | 5 |
| 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, | 10 |
| Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake | |
| And die as fast as they see others grow; | |
| And nothing ’gainst Time’s scythe can make defence | |
| Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence. | |
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