- That time of year thou mayst in me behold
- When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
- Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
- Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
- In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
- As after sunset fadeth in the west;
- Which by and by black night doth take away,
- Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
- In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,
- That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
- As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,
- Consum’d with that which it was nourish’d by.
- This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
- To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.