Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Sonnet 97

How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness every where!
And yet this time removed was summer's time,
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,
Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease:
Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me
But hope of orphans and unfather'd fruit;
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute;
Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.

--William Shakespeare


  1. Shakespeare is truly a master. This was incredible-I especially enjoyed the first line.

  2. Yes, he is a master, isn't he? And I agree with you about the first line. One can have Winter at any time of year, or Summer, as the case may be. Thank you for your nice comments, and may God bless you.