Sonnet 12: When I do count the clock that tells the time

S
When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silver’d o’er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing ‘gainst Time’s scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
523
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15-01-2024 18:58:27
This poem captures the passage of time and the inevitability of aging and mortality in a beautiful and poignant way. The speaker observes various elements of nature and life undergoing change and decay, such as the fading of a beautiful flower and the greying of hair. These observations lead the speaker to question the fleeting nature of beauty and confront the reality that everything eventually succumbs to the passage of time.
23-01-2024 03:48:43
This poem beautifully captures the passage of time and the inevitable process of aging. The speaker contemplates the changing seasons and the fading beauty, both in nature and in human life. The vivid imagery of the "brave day sunk in hideous night" and the "sable curls all silver'd o'er with white" evokes a sense of melancholy and acceptance.
23-01-2024 03:53:56
this poem prompts reflection on the transitory nature of life and beauty, urging the reader to appreciate the present moment and the beauty that surrounds us, knowing that it too will one day fade.

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