Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Poem of the week: Sonnet XIII by William Shakespeare

With its message of entreaty to a young man to marry and become a father, this sonnet could be read as a covert love letter or the writer merely playing a role


Henry Wriothesley (1573-1624), 3rd Earl of Southampton and patron of William Shakespeare.
Could this be the mysterious Mr WH? … Henry Wriothesley (1573-1624), 3rd Earl of Southampton and patron of William Shakespeare. Photograph: Hulton Archive/Getty Images
Sonnet XIII
O! that you were your self; but, love, you are
No longer yours, than you your self here live:
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your sweet semblance to some other give:
So should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination; then you were
Yourself again, after yourself’s decease,
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold,
Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day
And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?
O! none but unthrifts. Dear my love, you know,
You had a father: let your son say so.


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