That time of year thou may'st in me behold,
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,--
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry
-- Sonnet lxxiii
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,--
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry
-- Sonnet lxxiii
Related:
- The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry... - Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616),
Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet... - Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments:
love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds... - T is better to be vile than vile esteem'd,
When not to be receives reproach of being;
And the just pleasure lost which is so deem'd, Not... - Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime.
William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Sonnets & other Poetry... - But thy eternal summer shall not fade.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616),
Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet... - And art made tongue-tied by authority.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616),
Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet... - And beauty, making beautiful old rhyme.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616),
Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet... - And stretched metre of an antique song.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616),
Sonnets & other Poetry -- Sonnet...
