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    William Shakespeare - Sonnet 97 - Sian Phillips

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    poetictouch

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    Sian Phillips reads Shakespeare's Sonnet 97

    Sonnet 97
    by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

    How like a winter hath my absence been
    From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
    What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen,
    What old December’s bareness everywhere!
    And yet this time removed was summer’s time,
    The teeming autumn big with rich increase
    Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,
    Like widowed wombs after their lords’ decease:
    Yet this abundant issue seemed to me
    But hope of orphans, and unfathered fruit;
    For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
    And thou away, the very birds are mute;
    Or if they sing, ’tis with so dull a cheer
    That leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near.