Devouring time, blunt thou the lions paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tigers jaws,
And burn the long-livd phoenix, in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,
And do whateer thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O! carve not with thy hours my loves fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beautys pattern to succeeding men.
Yet, do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.
The Sonnets XIX - Devouring Time, blunt thou the lions paws
William Shakespeare
Suggested Poems
Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.