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Sonnets > Sonnet #16, Week 57, March 27, 2018

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message 1: by Candy (new)

Candy | 2604 comments Mod
But wherefore do not you a mightier way
Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?
And fortify your self in your decay
With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?
Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
And many maiden gardens, yet unset,
With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers,
Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
So should the lines of life that life repair,
Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen,
Neither in inward worth nor outward fair,
Can make you live your self in eyes of men.
To give away yourself, keeps yourself still,
And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill.

message 2: by Janice (JG) (new)

Janice (JG) No Fear Shakespeare sees this as a poem to his friend, saying his friend should have children to retain his beauty, rather than rely on S poetry or someone's paintings (?). This came up in another sonnet too, but unless having children was incredibly important as a social belief, I just don't know if I buy it.

According to A Distant Mirror, children in this age were seen as a means to continue a lineage, as labor, and otherwise if they survived as an extra mouth to feed... there was not usually any evidence of people having loving thoughts about their children as being valued. I think I remember S mourned his son in his poetry... did he mention any of his other children in the sonnets?

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