Grandpa Pencil's
Works of the great poets

William Shakespeare
Sonnets

2

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
The youth's proud livery, so gazed on now,
Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held:
Then being asked where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasures of thy lusty days,
To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,
If thou could answer, 'This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,'
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.

 

back

Sonnets index

next


     

Great
Poets
     

Go
Home

Baby
Bits

Nursery
Rhymes

For The
Teacher

Little
Rhymes

Australian
Fairytales

List Of
Contents