#sonnet 19

[gremlinsminion]

RSC Sonnets in Solitude | Assad Zaman | Sonnet 19

[prttynrgnl]

assad reciting sonnet is so dear to me

[loudlylovingreview]

Edna St. Vincent Millay: "And you as well must die" (Sonnet 19)

And you as well must die, beloved dust, And all your beauty stand you in no stead; This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head, This body of flame and steel, before the gust Of Death, or under his autumnal frost, Shall be as any leaf, be no less dead Than the first leaf that fell,–this wonder fled. Altered, estranged, disintegrated, lost. Nor shall my love avail you in your hour. In spite of all…

Edna St. Vincent Millay: "And you as well must die" (Sonnet 19)

[chocolatteria]

[p-isforpoetry]

Sonnet 19 by William Shakespeare (read by Simon Callow)

Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws, And make the earth devour her own sweet brood; Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws, And burn the long-liv'd Phoenix in her blood;

Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets, And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time, To the wide world and all her fading sweets; But I forbid thee one more heinous crime:

O, carve not with the hours my love's fair brow, Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen! Him in thy course untainted do allow For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.

Yet do thy worst, old Time! Despite thy wrong My love shall in my verse ever live young.

Source: William Shakespeare - Sonnets - Simon Callow

[poems-from-around-the-world]

Sonnet 19 - John Milton - UK

When I consider how my light is spent,

   Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,

   And that one Talent which is death to hide

   Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present

   My true account, lest he returning chide;

   “Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”

   I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need

   Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best

   Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state

Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed

   And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest:

   They also serve who only stand and wait.”

[these-summer-nights-in-december]

[p-isforpoetry]

Sonnet 19 by William Shakespeare (read by David Harewood)

Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws, And make the earth devour her own sweet brood; Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws, And burn the long-liv'd Phoenix in her blood;

Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets, And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time, To the wide world and all her fading sweets; But I forbid thee one more heinous crime:

O, carve not with the hours my love's fair brow, Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen! Him in thy course untainted do allow For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.

 Yet do thy worst, old Time! Despite thy wrong  My love shall in my verse ever live young.

Source: When Love Speaks, 2002