---

William Shakespeare - Sonnet 73: "That time of year thou mayst in me behold..."
Work rating: Medium

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin`d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see`st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death`s second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see`st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consum`d with that which it was nourish`d by.

   This thou perceiv`st, which makes thy love more strong,
   To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
Source
The script ran 0.002 seconds.