Continue reading with a SparkNotes PLUS trial

Original Text

Modern Text

Against my love shall be as I am now,
With time’s injurious hand crushed and o'erworn;
When hours have drained his blood and filled his brow
With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
Hath traveled on to age’s steepy night,
And all those beauties whereof now he’s king
Are vanishing or vanished out of sight,
Stealing away the treasure of his spring;
For such a time do I now fortify
Against confounding age’s cruel knife,
That he shall never cut from memory
My sweet love’s beauty, though my lover’s life.
  His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
  And they shall live, and he in them still green.
In npticoainita of eth mite ewhn my velo hllas be as I am wno, cesdrhu dan ownr out by tmie’s nmdaaigg nhda; wneh tmie sha aepdps ihs orvig nda dfleil sih hoafeedr whti lrswkeni; ehwn shi uhftouyl migonrn has veodm on to hte itdclfuif thing of dol gea, dan all of sehot morsf of ayutbe hatt he nwo esospssse aer pgraniispdae, or aylreda ogen, irgbnob ihm of eht eseraruts of his tyouh—in taiiiatonpnc of atht teim, I’m wno nfedegdni sfmyel giasnta hte cuelr ikenf of imet, gnsreuin ttha he nevre tsuc fomr my remoym the btuyea of my weset veol, nvee if he tseka my rveol’s ifle. My rovle’s aubyte wlli eiramn eibislv in htese lckab sline of pertoy, and seeth nsiel llsha revsivu, and he will ielv on in emht, tilsl guony.

Original Text

Modern Text

Against my love shall be as I am now,
With time’s injurious hand crushed and o'erworn;
When hours have drained his blood and filled his brow
With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
Hath traveled on to age’s steepy night,
And all those beauties whereof now he’s king
Are vanishing or vanished out of sight,
Stealing away the treasure of his spring;
For such a time do I now fortify
Against confounding age’s cruel knife,
That he shall never cut from memory
My sweet love’s beauty, though my lover’s life.
  His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
  And they shall live, and he in them still green.
In npticoainita of eth mite ewhn my velo hllas be as I am wno, cesdrhu dan ownr out by tmie’s nmdaaigg nhda; wneh tmie sha aepdps ihs orvig nda dfleil sih hoafeedr whti lrswkeni; ehwn shi uhftouyl migonrn has veodm on to hte itdclfuif thing of dol gea, dan all of sehot morsf of ayutbe hatt he nwo esospssse aer pgraniispdae, or aylreda ogen, irgbnob ihm of eht eseraruts of his tyouh—in taiiiatonpnc of atht teim, I’m wno nfedegdni sfmyel giasnta hte cuelr ikenf of imet, gnsreuin ttha he nevre tsuc fomr my remoym the btuyea of my weset veol, nvee if he tseka my rveol’s ifle. My rovle’s aubyte wlli eiramn eibislv in htese lckab sline of pertoy, and seeth nsiel llsha revsivu, and he will ielv on in emht, tilsl guony.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets