Sonnet 19
By William Shakespeare
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws,
And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,
And do whate’er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O, carve not with thy hours my love’s fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty’s pattern to succeeding men.
Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.
Copyright © by the owner.
Related Posts:
- Weary With Toil, I Haste Me To My Bed (Sonnet 27) By…
- Sonnet 30: When To The Sessions Of Sweet Silent…
- Sonnet 123: No, Time, Thou Shalt Not Boast That I Do…
- Like As, To Make Our Appetite More Keen (Sonnet 118)…
- How Heavy Do I Journey On The Way (Sonnet 50) By…
- Were't Aught To Me I Bore The Canopy (Sonnet 125) By…