The Poetry Corner

The Sonnets XIX - Devouring Time, blunt thou the lions paws

By William Shakespeare

Devouring time, blunt thou the lions paws, And make the earth devour her own sweet brood; Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tigers jaws, And burn the long-livd phoenix, in her blood; Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets, And do whateer thou wilt, swift-footed Time, To the wide world and all her fading sweets; But I forbid thee one most heinous crime: O! carve not with thy hours my loves fair brow, Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen; Him in thy course untainted do allow For beautys pattern to succeeding men. Yet, do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong, My love shall in my verse ever live young.