But shall thy youth’s proud beauty not yet wane,
Though fifty winters shall thy brow besiege;
Each furrow earned, a worthy harvest; gaining
Greater beauty each, for youth’s unease.
Thy treasure lieth deep in Wisdom’s care;
For all shall see, as bright as doth remain
Fair beauty’s lustful youth: Beyond compare,
Shall count thy beauty’s truth; and fond sustain
Those many or those few who might impute
Thee wisdom, beauty’s blood to thee compare;
Let thy succession, warm or aught, repute
Thee not, the better to be taught; for where
May please thy children wisdom to dilute;
Yet these, thy words, made wisdom beauty’s fruit.
- David Emeron
To: myself
This sonnet is part of a short, or
possibly at some point, very long
sequence; click here to read it all:
David Emeron: Sonnets 
Kept coming back to read this one again. “Though fifty winters shall thy brow besiege…” Great work :)
Lily
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Thank you. This is part of a long term sonnet sequence “side-project” wherein I answer each one of Shakespeare’s sonnets. He was writing to his younger self, and so that is my practise as well. There are, at present, only three (of mine) in the sequence. Shakespeare wrote 154, I believe, I have decided to do one of these now and again as the muse commands!
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That’s such an admirable project. When I hear of how prolific writers like Shakespeare were, I feel that any comparison would be detrimental to my efforts! Good luck with your project!
Lily
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Thank you. Evidently, Mr. Shakespeare wrote his sonnets during an outbreak of the plague wherein everyone was disallowed from public activity. Hence he could not perform his plays during that time.
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