Sonnet 104: To me, fair friend, you never can be old

William Shakespeare 1564 (Stratford-upon-Avon) – 1616 (Stratford-upon-Avon)

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I ey'd,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold,
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd,
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure, and no pace perceiv'd;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceiv'd:
For fear of which, hear this thou age unbred:
Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

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William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare was an English playwright, poet, and actor, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's greatest dramatist. He is often called England's national poet and the "Bard of Avon". more…

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    "Sonnet 104: To me, fair friend, you never can be old" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 20 Jan. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/41401/sonnet-104:-to-me,-fair-friend,-you-never-can-be-old>.

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