Thursday, December 19, 2013

WINTER - SONET 97 by William Shakespeare










 
WINTER - SONET  97  

by William Shakespeare
     


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 widowed wombs after their lords' decease.
Yet this abundant issue seemed to me
But hope of orphans and un-fathered 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.                

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