| That time of year thou mayst in me behold | 1 | 
                    
                        | When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang |  | 
                    
                        | Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, |  | 
                    
                        | Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. |  | 
                    
                        | In me thou seest the twilight of such day | 5 | 
                    
                        | As after sunset fadeth in the west; |  | 
                    
                        | Which by and by black night doth take away, |  | 
                    
                        | Death's second self that seals up all in rest. |  | 
                    
                        | In me thou seest the glowing of such fire, |  | 
                    
                        | That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, | 10 | 
                    
                        | As the death-bed whereon it must expire, |  | 
                    
                        | Consumed with that which it was nourished by. |  | 
                    
                        | This thou perceiv'st,  which makes thy love more strong, |  | 
                    
                        | To love that well which thou must leave ere long. |  |