Poetry Sunday: Sonnet 73 by William Shakespeare

Yes, I know I've featured this poem before. It is one of my favorite Shakespeare sonnets, so here it is again. After all, it is that time of year when we begin to behold some yellow leaves, at least in some parts of the world. Here near the Gulf Coast they are still mostly green and will remain so. But I do remember autumn and those yellow leaves, one of my favorite times of year.

  
Sonnet 73: That time of year thou mayst in me behold

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 ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see'st 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 see'st the glowing of such fire

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the death-bed whereon it must expire,

Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.

This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.