Who
will believe my verse in time to come,
If it were fill'd 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,
The age to come would say 'This poet
lies:
Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.'
So should my papers
yellow'd with their age
Be scorn'd like old men of less truth than tongue,
And
your true rights be term'd 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.
This
sonnet is the final sonnet of Shakespeare’s “Procreation sonnets.” In this
sonnet, Shakespeare is imploring his lover, the young man, to have a child.
Throughout the sonnet, Shakespeare is frustrated with himself, because he
realizes that he will not be able to properly describe the young man’s beauty.
On one hand, there are no words he can use to describe his beauty. On the other
hand, if he finds those words, no one would ever believe him. In the end of the
sonnet, in the rhyming couplet, he figures out a solution. He decides that if
the young man has descendants, his beauty will last forever.
This
sonnet contains the immortality through verse theme. This means that a person
lives forever simply through literature. The young man will live forever, as
long as people continue to read his sonnets. –Stephen Booth
No comments:
Post a Comment