home | authors | books | about

Home -> William Shakespeare -> 3

3

Sonnets

1

10

100

101

102

103

104

105

106

107

108

109

11

110

111

112

113

114

115

116

117

118

119

12

120

121

122

123

124

125

126

127

128

129

13

130

131

132

133

134

135

136

137

138

139

14

140

141

142

143

144

144

145

146

147

148

149

15

150

151

152

153

154

16

17

18

19

2

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

3

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

4

40

41

42

43

44

45

46

47

48

49

5

50

51

52

53

54

55

56

57

58

59

6

60

61

62

63

64

65

66

67

68

69

7

70

71

72

73

74

75

76

77

78

79

8

80

81

82

83

84

85

86

87

88

89

9

90

91

92

93

94

95

96

97

98

99







III

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose unear'd womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb,
Of his self-love to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother's glass and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime;
So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
But if thou live, remember'd not to be,
Die single and thine image dies with thee.




© Art Branch Inc. | English Dictionary