William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Sonnet Xiii - Poem by William Shakespeare

O, that you were yourself! but, love, you are
No longer yours than you yourself here live:
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your sweet semblance to some other give.
So should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination: then you were
Yourself again after yourself's decease,
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold
Against the stormy gusts of winter's day
And barren rage of death's eternal cold?
O, none but unthrifts! Dear my love, you know
You had a father: let your son say so.


Comments about Sonnet Xiii by William Shakespeare

  • Mizzy ........ (9/5/2016 4:35:00 PM)


    Very beautiful Sonnet. (Report) Reply

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  • Brian Jani (4/26/2014 2:51:00 PM)


    Awesome I like this poem, check mine out  (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: winter, son, father, house, beauty, death, love, sonnet



Poem Submitted: Monday, May 21, 2001

Poem Edited: Monday, May 21, 2001


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