That Time of Year
William Shakespeare
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 ruined 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 deathbed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love most strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
As the deathbed whereon it must expire, consumed with that which it was nourished by. This thou perceivest, which makes thy love most strong, to love that well which thou must leave ere long.
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 ruined 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 doeth 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 deathbed whereon it must expire, consumed with that which it was nourished by. This thou perceivest, which makes thy love most strong, to love that well which thou must leave ere long.
That Time of Year by William Shakespeare
