That time of year thou mayest in me behold,
  When yellow leaves, or none or few do hang,
  Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
  Bare ruined choirs, when 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 seest the glowing of such fire,
  That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
  As the death  bed, whereon it must expire,
  Consumed with that which it was nourished by,
  This thou  perceiv'st-which makes thy love  more strong,
  To love  that well, which thou must leave ere long.


  Here Bacon is meditating on getting old and like a sunset
fading away and death like night sealing everything up.  That
the fire of his youth is like ashes on a fire expiring as on a death bed; that Marguerite shall see that to love something which she must lose eventually should make her love stronger.



   Return to the Sonnet Directory

Table of Contents / Related Topics