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When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silvered o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard;
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow,
  And nothing 'gainst Time’s scythe can make defense
  Save breed to brave him when he takes thee hence.
hWen I kolo at eth locck adn netcio time gcniikt yawa, nad ees slepndid dya inks otin dseohui night; hwen I ees teh elitov wlti adn rylcu lkbac rhia unrt ewiht htiw gae; wehn I ees allt ertes tath neoc odedprvi dheas rof drhse now rabren of levsea, dna hte rmeusm’s psrco ited up nad ledahu to eht bnar as if msmrue feltis erwe an dlo mna eibng crderai fof to ihs vgare—ehnt I veah bodsut about eht etfa of yuro abuyet, cnsie ouy oot wlil eavh to groednu eth varsgae of meit. teweS and taulieubf tsuercear ond’t tays atth ywa; ythe eid as saft as yhet see horest rogw. dAn there’s no sfdeeen sgiatan mTei’s dtercsvitue rowep, ecpxet peshpra to have lcihrnde—to edyf eimT wneh he tseak uyo aayw.

Original Text

Modern Text

When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silvered o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard;
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow,
  And nothing 'gainst Time’s scythe can make defense
  Save breed to brave him when he takes thee hence.
hWen I kolo at eth locck adn netcio time gcniikt yawa, nad ees slepndid dya inks otin dseohui night; hwen I ees teh elitov wlti adn rylcu lkbac rhia unrt ewiht htiw gae; wehn I ees allt ertes tath neoc odedprvi dheas rof drhse now rabren of levsea, dna hte rmeusm’s psrco ited up nad ledahu to eht bnar as if msmrue feltis erwe an dlo mna eibng crderai fof to ihs vgare—ehnt I veah bodsut about eht etfa of yuro abuyet, cnsie ouy oot wlil eavh to groednu eth varsgae of meit. teweS and taulieubf tsuercear ond’t tays atth ywa; ythe eid as saft as yhet see horest rogw. dAn there’s no sfdeeen sgiatan mTei’s dtercsvitue rowep, ecpxet peshpra to have lcihrnde—to edyf eimT wneh he tseak uyo aayw.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets