Sonnet III: (William Shakespeare)

Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.

For where is she so fair whose unear’d womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?

Thou art thy mother’s glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime:
So thou through windows of thine age shall see
Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.

But if thou live, remember’d not to be,
Die single, and thine image dies with thee.

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3 responses to “Sonnet III: (William Shakespeare)

    • Thank you very much for this most gracious invitation. I have, in fact, looked for the email of which you make mention. If, by this mention, you mean the email which is automatically delivered when a comment is posted, I am afraid I do not receive such emails. If, rather, you mean you have emailed my public email address, or, perhaps mistakenly, emailed my MSN Messenger address, such as are linked from my gravatar profile, I have not received such an email at either address.

      I have, conversely, noted that you do not have a public email listed within your gravatar profile from which I thought I might obtain such an address in order to promptly respond to this very generous offer.

      In any case, you my feel free to email me at the address listed there with any information which, for whatever reason, you may not wish to appear publicly on wordpress.

      It would, however, be most unfair of me not to inform you in advance that I do not participate in magazine sites or rings, or, in fact any form of aggregation–particularly involving poetry or writing–preferring instead this loose association of individuals on wordpress, and finding it to be a more than sufficient form of participation–and one which, of necessity, does not go beyond what is required for publication.

      I am, of course, not obsessive in this; for, all of us here tend to “like and follow” each other regardless of our respective content; and in this, I am much like anyone one might find here. However, when it does come to my attention that I am unknowingly following a magazine site, I feel I must, regrettably, unfollow; although I very much appreciate the extremely generous intent behind such inclusion.

      Similarly, I feel I must not participate in, nor accept, any form of award; and therefore decline–regrettably and most respectfully–all such nominations as well.

      My reasons for this are too numerous to include in a comment which has already become unwieldy; although I must here state that declining such overtures affords me a most considerable regret.

      I cannot begin to explain how honoured I feel myself in having received such an invitation, nor the depth of regret I feel that I must decline such an honour.

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  1. Pingback: Seven Ages Of Man By William Shakespeare | Renard Moreau Presents

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