Sonnet blog

Sonnet 60 - Shakespeare

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd,
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

 Given that this sonnet was written by Shakespeare, it is quite obviously a Shakespearean sonnet. It has three quatrains followed by the rhyming couplet. The turn in the sonnet occurs right before the couplet. Shakespeare spends the quatrains comparing life to waves on a pebbled shore, with our time running out as the waves approach the shore. He also compares life to light from the sun and as it "crawls to maturity" the light darkens. His last quatrain is focused on the ruthlessness of time: it diminishes beauty and ravages everything in its way. The couplet, however, speaks of how his "verse" will live on and the one the addressee's worth and beauty will live on as well, despite time's wrath.