Skip to content

Poems on the Underground
  • Poems on the Underground
  • This Month’s Poems
  • Poem of the Week
  • Favourites
  • Index
  • About Us…
  • Menu

Sonnet 73

Sonnet 73 by William Shakespeare ' That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou seest the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the deathbed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that which it was nourished by. This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.'

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • WhatsApp

Imtiaz Dharker Twitter

My Tweets

George Szirtes Twitter

My Tweets

Imtiaz Dharker FB

Imtiaz Dharker FB

George Szirtes FB

George Szirtes FB
A SiteOrigin Theme