Sonnets, [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 all silver’d o’er with white;/ When lofty trees I see barren of leaves/ Which eart 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 defense/ Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.”

One Response to “Violet”

  1. Shakespeare’s Plants (alphabetical) « PLANTS Says:

    […] all when my father died. They say he made a good end.” Violet past its prime, Sonnets, [12]; purple violet, Sonnets, [99]; Midsummer Night’s Dream, [2.1.249-256]; Twelfth Night, […]

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