Sonnet 2: When forty winters shall besiege thy brow

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

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,
Will be a tattered weed of small worth held.
Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure 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 couldst 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.

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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 2: When forty winters shall besiege thy brow" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 20 Jan. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/41465/sonnet-2:-when-forty-winters-shall-besiege-thy-brow>.

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