Sonnet CIV
To me, fair friend, you never can be old,For as you were when first your eye I ey’d,Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold,Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride,Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn’d,In process of the seasons have I seen,Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn’d,Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.Ah! yet doth beauty like a dial-hand,Steal from his figure, and no pace perceiv’d;So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceiv’d:For fear of which, hear this thou age unbred:Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead.
Words in this poem
- shook v. t.
- To pack, as staves, in a shook.
- beauteous a.
- Full of beauty; beautiful; very handsome. [Mostly poetic] -- Beau"te*ous*ly, adv. --
- methinks v.
- It seems to me; I think. See Me. [AS. þyncan to seem, me þynceedh, me þuhte, OE. me thinketh, me thoughte; akin to G. dünken to seem, denken to think, and E. think. See Me, and Think.]
- unbred a.
- Not begotten; unborn.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Sonnet CIV is in the public domain. This text is taken from Shakespeare's Sonnets, Project Gutenberg ebook #1041; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: William Shakespeare, Sonnet CIV, in The Sonnets (1609), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1041, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/shakespeare-sonnets/sonnet-104.html, id L00122.
Form and metre
Sonnet CIV is 14 lines in a single stanza. It rhymes ABABCDCDEFEFGG, the pattern of the English sonnet. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 84%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.1 syllables.
See other English sonnets, other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABABCDCDEFEFGG oldA · ey'dB · coldA · prideB · turn'dC · seenD · burn'dC · greenD · handE · perceiv'dF · standE · deceiv'dF · unbredG · deadG
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| To me, fair friend, you never can be old, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| For as you were when first your eye I ey’d, | 10 | ·········· |
| Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn’d, | 11 | ·/˘˘··/˘/˘· |
| In process of the seasons have I seen, | 10 | ·/···/˘··· |
| Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn’d, | 10 | ·/˘˘/····· |
| Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green. | 10 | ·········· |
| Ah! yet doth beauty like a dial-hand, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Steal from his figure, and no pace perceiv’d; | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand, | 10 | ·····˘/··· |
| Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceiv’d: | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| For fear of which, hear this thou age unbred: | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead. | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
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