A chill and peasant lone extremity,
Let not it overcome thy youthful shine.
Instead, with chosen consort, duplify,
Lest murder you that gift in which is thine.
No repercussion shall you intimate,
As replications yield thee life ten-fold.
So father now a child to satiate
The happiness of ten lives found in one.
Thus blessedness compounds with reverie
Of offspring there in present multiplied
The blunt expectancy of progeny.
My words to thee please do not dare defy.
Pay heed my word and propagate a birth,
For far too late it is when fare of earth.
Shakespearean Sonnet VI Revisited
June 5, 2008 by sojourninglitterateur
Sonnet VI
“Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface
In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill’d:
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
With beauty’s treasure, ere it be self-kill’d.
That use is not forbidden usury,
Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
That’s for thyself to breed another thee,
Or ten times happier, be it ten for one;
Ten times thyself were happier than thou art,
If ten of thine ten times refigured thee:
Then what could death do, if thou shouldst depart,
Leaving thee living in posterity?
Be not self-will’d, for thou art much too fair
To be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir.”