Shakespeare’s Sonnet #12: “When I do count the clock that tells the time”

 

 

When I do count the clock that tells the time
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;

Reading of Sonnet 12

Click on video to play

The images in the YouTube video are from an original 1609 edition of Shake-speares Sonnets held by the British Library.  It is one of only thirteen copies in existence.  Images courtesy of the Octavo Corporation.  

Modernized Spelling and Punctuation

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.

Simplified Modern English Translation

When I watch the dial hands move on the clock
and see the bright day pass into dark night;
when I see delicate flowers wither over time
and formerly dark hair show streaks of white;
when I see lofty trees barren of leaves,
which formerly had provided shade for the herd,
and the green hay of summer collected into bales
that are carried away as the bales become white and bristly;
then I start to think of the future of your own beauty,
and conclude that it similarly will be devoured by Time,
since all these sweet and beautiful things are simply forgotten
and die as fast as new life is created.
There is nothing that can protect you from the ravages of Time
except having children, which will defy him as he takes you hence.

Text from Original 1609 Quarto

Transcription courtesy of University of Virginia Library:

When I doe count the clock that tels the time,
And see the braue day sunck in hidious night,
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls or¹ siluer’d ore with white:
When lofty trees I see barren of leaues,
Which erst from heat did canopie the herd
And Sommers greene all girded vp in sheaues
Borne on the beare with white and bristly beard:
Then of thy beauty do I question make
That thou among the wastes of time must goe,
Since sweets and beauties do them-selues forsake,
And die as fast as they see others grow,
And nothing gainst Times sieth can make defence
Saue breed to braue him, when he takes thee hence.

 

Wording differences between the text and the reading are noted with a superscript:

¹ all

 



 Posted by at 8:59 am

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