NaPoWriMo, Day 8: “Sonnet XVII,” by William Shakespeare

I do not think I have ever written a Sonnet, but I have written a Haiku or two!

However, for now, I Lovingly transcribe this Sonnet, from the Bard of Avon, William Shakespeare.

Here we go…

 

Sonnet XVII

by William Shakespeare

Who will believe my verse in time to come,

If it were filled with your most high deserts?

Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb

Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.

If I could write the beauty of your eyes,

And in fresh numbers number all your graces,

Such heavenly touches ne’er touched earthly faces.’

So should my papers, yellowed with their age,

Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue,

And your true rights be termed a poet’s rage

And stretched metre of an antique song:

But were some child of yours alive that time,

You should live twice, in it, and in my rhyme.

 

I invite you to visit the following Website for more information (and Sonnets!):

http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/17

Thank you, one and all, for honoring who I AM and what I do.

And good night!

Another great image, found by using bing.com.
Another great image, found by using bing.com.
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