This would have been more appropriate in November, and I kept thinking about it and not making time to write it (trying to spend more writing time on the screenplay, you see). But since we are having a brown December so far, I’m still going to do it. This is my favorite Shakespearean sonnet.
That time of year thou mayst in me behold (Sonnet 73)
William Shakespeare – 1564-1616
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where 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 see’st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the deathbed 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.
It’s also the only one I’ve ever memorized. I think about this sonnet and repeat it or at least the first quatrain to myself whenever I’m out hiking or walking alone in stark trees with only a few yellowed leaves clinging to the branches. The teacher in me just can’t leave it alone, so stop reading now if you’ve had enough. 🙂
First, Shakespearean sonnets all follow the same pattern:
14 lines
3 quatrains (four lines) each with the same rhyme scheme: abab: first and third lines of each quatrain rhyme, as do second and fourth: behold, cold; hang, sang; then day, away; west, rest; etc.
Final couplet that rhymes with itself.
Each quatrain contains its own image and metaphor. So Mr. William generally uses three extended metaphors per sonnet and then a final couplet that ties it all together, often an abstraction/explanation he has earned through the meaning of all his metaphors in the poem.
Here are my thoughts on this one.
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
Here, we are looking UP to the treetops, and the bard put yellow leaves on the tree, removes them all, and then pastes on a few lingering yellow leaves. And the last line is an empty choir loft, devoid of the warmer-weather bird choir. Appreciating the last moments before winter, which is a metaphor for aging, appreciating our latter days and years.
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.
Here we look ACROSS the land at the horizon, where the sun sinks into the west, and the light is taken by the darkness. The death metaphor of night seems obvious…and as each day ends in darkness, like it or not, each of our lives will eventually, finally, end with death at some point.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the deathbed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
Here we look DOWNWARD to the embers of a glowing fire. And here he directly confronts that uncomfortable idea of dying. But HERE, we also see that he is joyful in the passion that has driven him, and also burned up his life. He was so passionate, it consumed his life force. I feel that, too! If I had known earlier what I know now, I might have raced fewer ultra races, maybe even done fewer 100-mile rides, or I may have not stayed up late writing and grading and I might have lived with less stress—but that would not have been me. I, too, have been consumed by that which fed my entire life. And I cannot regret a moment of my life.
Final couplet:
This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
And oh, yeah, at funerals, we all realize how much someone meant to us if we didn’t appreciate them while they were alive. And we all love more dearly those we must leave before long. ICUs and ERs also jerk us to this realization. And if we’re the one in the ICU, we love life even more than ever before. He understood human heart quite well, this Shakespeare dude.
I love this sonnet, and this year it means even more than it ever has.
Wow! Thanks for sharing. You have inspired me to memorize this sonnet, too. Take care and be well, Becky.
Thank you, Roger! Hope to see you sometime in the next few months…
This is also my favorite of Shakespeare’s sonnets, has been for over forty years, since I heard an actor recite it. That second line….
That makes me happy, Richard! Yes, that second line–beyond brilliant, isn’t it? Thanks for commenting! You make my day.