Old London Bridge - Only for Poets

Old London Bridge - Only for Poets
Connecting the Poets who digging heart of me Still death - Sabarnasri

HEARTY WELCOME & HAVE A NICE STAY

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Thursday, May 21, 2009

William Shakespeare - Sonnet 63

Sonnet 63

LXIII.

Against my love shall be, as I am now,
With Time's injurious hand crush'd and o'er-worn;
When hours have drain'd his blood and fill'd his brow
With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
Hath travell'd on to age's steepy night,
And all those beauties whereof now he's king
Are vanishing or vanish'd out of sight,
Stealing away the treasure of his spring;
For such a time do I now fortify
Against confounding age's cruel knife,
That he shall never cut from memory
My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life:
His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
And they shall live, and he in them still green.

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