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Sonnet XCVII. [How like a winter hath my absence been]

by William Shakespeare, 1609

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 widow'd wombs after their lords' decease:
Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me
But hope of orphans, and unfather'd 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.

Published in Shakespeare's Sonnets
Tags: winter

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