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Shakespeare’s sonnet 60
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end,
Each changing place with that which goes before;
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned
Crookèd eclipses ‘gainst his glory fight,
And time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow;
Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth despite his cruel hand.
The Shakespearian Sonnet Project by Cinzia Dalla Ricca January 2008
Like as the waves waves theshore,pebbled make towards.
In Elizabethan England – the era in which Shakespeare’s sonnets were written – the sonnet was the form of choice for lyric poets particularly to engage.
William Shakespeare Sonnet 60. a Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, b So do our minutes hasten to their end; a Each changing place with.
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