Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May

Poem

Sonnet 12

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 ensilvered 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 defence
Save breed to brave him when he takes thee hence.

William Shakespeare

Music

Forgotten Melodies, Cycle 1, Op. 38: No. 6 Canzona Serenata in F minor Moderato, Nikolai Medtner
Polina Leschenko

Image