1That time of year thou mayst in me behold
2When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
3Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
4Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
5In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
6As after sunset fadeth in the west,
7Which by and by black night doth take away,
8Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
9In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
10That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
11As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
12Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.
13This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
14To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
“Sonnet 73” was written by the English poet and playwright William Shakespeare. Though it was likely written in the 1590s, it was not published until 1609. Like many of Shakespeare’s first 126 sonnets, it is a love poem that is usually understood to address a young man. The poem uses natural metaphors of decline and decay to grapple with the onset of old age, and ultimately suggests that the inevitability of death makes love all the stronger during the lovers’ lifetimes. Like Shakespeare’s other sonnets, it departs from the earlier, Italian sonnet structure and rhyme scheme and follows the Shakespearean sonnet form.
When you look at me you must see that time of year when yellow leaves, or no leaves, or just a few leaves, hang on tree branches that shiver in the cold. In me you see deserted church choirs, which used to hold singing birds but are now bare. You see twilight in me—the part of the day when the sun has set in the west, and the darkness of night slowly takes over. Night is a shadowy version of death, because death will one day permanently close the eyes that are now temporarily closed in sleep. In me you can see the glow of a dying fire that rests on its own ashes like a deathbed, since the fire will eventually burn out upon the remains of the wood that once fueled it. You see all this, and seeing it makes your love stronger. You love me more knowing that I will die soon.
Sonnet 73 uses autumn, twilight, and a dying fire as extended metaphors for growing older. The poem makes it clear that aging and death are inevitable, but it also affirms that the person the speaker is addressing still loves the speaker just the same—in fact, this person loves the speaker even more knowing that their time together is limited. Rather than rage against the march of time, the poem ultimately offers that genuine love doesn't care about age and need not diminish as a loved one nears death.
The metaphors of the poem hardly make the speaker seem traditionally attractive or appealing, in that they all suggest decay. For instance, the poem begins by comparing the aging speaker to late autumn, a “time of year” when the trees’ vibrant green leaves have changed to “yellow” and then begin to fall. The speaker is compared to a nearly bare tree branch shivering in the cold.
The second metaphor then compares the speaker’s current time of life to “twilight,” or the time when the day’s last light is still present in the sky, but dark night is imminent. This suggests that the speaker's "light"—his vitality, attractiveness, wit, or any number of other qualities—has peaked, has already come and gone; everything is only going to get darker—to go downhill, basically—from here.
Finally, the third metaphor compares the aged speaker to a dying fire. Once again, the connection between old age and death is made explicit: the fire is on its "death-bed" and "must expire," suggesting that the speaker, too, is edging ever closure to his own expiration date.
None of these images are romantic, and they all suggest deterioration rather than vibrancy. Love is also often associated with the potential for new life (i.e., procreation), but that's clearly not something the speaker is capable of. Even in a more platonic sense, the metaphors the speaker uses reveal that he is well past his prime, with less to offer his beloved than perhaps he once had.
Yet the poem's final couplet suggests that the poem’s addressee cherishes the speaker not in spite of these visible signs of old age but because of them. The addressee sees that the speaker is aging and knows that the process cannot be reversed. Since death is inevitable, the addressee must eventually “leave” the speaker—a line that also implies that this addressee is significantly younger than the speaker and, it follows, has more life left. However, accepting the speaker’s approaching death makes the addressee’s love for the speaker “more strong.” In other words, none of these signs of aging matter when genuine love is involved. And that love is made all the more precious by its inevitable loss.
This final touches on a theme broader theme about the nature of life and mortality more generally, which we'll discuss next.
Much of "Sonnet 73" is devoted to extended descriptions of natural processes unfolding in time. The three metaphors compare the speaker’s dwindling time on earth to three instances of natural decline—autumn, twilight, and a dying fire. Importantly, no attention is given to the fact that the chosen examples are cyclical—the speaker presents them as completely linear and irreversible. Similarly, the couplet’s reference to the speaker’s limited lifespan goes against the Christian idea that joy will come in the afterlife. Instead, the poem argues that joy actually comes from the brevity of life (i.e., how short life really is). Through its natural imagery, the poem shows that people are subject to the unrelenting march of time toward death, but it also suggests that limited time on earth actually makes life more meaningful.
By choosing natural images to represent the speaker’s aging process, the poem suggests that human life is bound by the laws of nature. The first description, of late autumn, demonstrates time’s power to destroy that which was once whole and beautiful. Trees are described through their autumnal “yellow leaves” that fall to the ground, and through their “bare” and “ruin’d” boughs.
The second description, of twilight, focuses on how the coming night is a metaphor for the speaker’s approaching death. Night is called “death’s second self,” as sleep temporarily “seals” the eyes that death will one day close forever. The third description, of a dying fire, shows that no person or element can sustain itself indefinitely. Like the fire that will soon burn out on its own ashes, the speaker will soon lie on his own “death-bed.” Since each process of natural decay over time is metaphorically located “in” the speaker, the poem suggests that each metaphor reflects the inevitable decline of the speaker—and, by extension, of all human beings.
Yet though the natural processes in the poem are in fact cyclical—meaning that "life" will return—the speaker focuses on decline rather than renewal. In describing late autumn, twilight, and a dying fire, the speaker fails to mention that springtime follows winter, that day follows night, or that fires might be re-kindled. Just as the metaphors fail to mention nature’s cycles, the final couplet’s reference to the speaker’s limited lifespan fails to reference the Christian belief in a blissful afterlife in heaven (note that Christianity was very widely accepted in the England of Shakespeare's day). The poem thus refuses traditional forms of consolation, instead focusing on the inevitability of decay.
The final two lines, however, suggest that the harsh reality of life’s linear progression toward death also offers unexpected comfort. In the couplet, the speaker suggests that the addressee sees time’s effects on and “in” him, and thus knows the speaker must die. Knowing this, however, causes the addressee’s love for the speaker to become “more strong.” Loving and leaving become linked, making limited time a condition for this relationship’s ultimate strength. The brevity of peoples’ natural life, then, becomes the very thing that makes love possible.
Though the poem focuses on the uncompromising movement of time toward death, this natural process is not presented as a negative thing. Instead, the poem ultimately shows that moving toward a definite ending can create the kind of intense feeling that gives life meaning.
The poem clearly explores the nature of love in the face of mortality, but it takes a look at what it actually feels like to get older on a more immediate level—to actually live with death just over the horizon. Note how each of the metaphors that describe the speaker's stage in life also gesture toward a youthful past, showing how the speaker’s youth remains a vivid memory even as it seems to fade. Part of getting older, it seems, entails harboring a fond, poignant longing for the excitement of years gone by. At the same time, aging is associated with a sense of peace and calm as the ruckus of life slowly begins to fade.
The poem first compares the speaker to a tree in late autumn, which on one level reveals the speaker's advancing age. At the same time, however—though this tree is clearly showing signs of decay with its yellow, falling leaves and shivering "against the cold"—this tree is not yet dormant for the winter. The speaker, too, may be getting old, but is still very much alive right now; his outward appearance is just less showy, with fewer brightly colored leaves.
The subsequent comparison to a church choir also subtly recalls the trees’ springtime youthfulness, when “birds sang” on its leafy branches. The speaker mourns the birds’ departure and the deadened appearance of the tree’s boughs, and in doing so, the speaker implicitly mourns the loss of his own youthful appearance—a time when perhaps the addressee would have loved the speaker more. Yet the absence of birds also connotes the emergence of a kind of peace and quiet.
This notion continues when the speaker moves on to a consideration of twilight. Twilight is a time when the brilliant finale of the setting sun is over, implying within the context of this metaphor that the speaker is now past his prime. Yet twilight is still often considered a peaceful, reflective time of day before the dark of night sets in. And that "night," for that matter, is explicitly connected to "rest." Death isn't necessarily something frightening, then, but rather a continuation of the calm and quiet that seems to characterize old age.
The speaker's final metaphorical fire smolders weakly upon the “ashes of his youth,” or the decomposing remnants of the logs that once fueled vibrant flames. The image implies that aspects of the speaker’s younger self remain within the speaker, even as he grows old. The speaker's self will eventually be extinguished through the passage of time that allowed that growth to occur, yet for the moment, the speaker still lives on.
This suggests that the addressee can still love the speaker so strongly because, aging outward appearance aside, the speaker's inner self remains the same; the volume has just been turned down, the colors muted, and the brightness dimmed. Aging in the poem is like a slow fade out, a time marked by quiet reflection and consideration of the life one is gearing up to leave behind.
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
The first line of “Sonnet 73” introduces many of its central thematic and formal qualities. Essentially, the speaker is talking to some unknown addressee and saying, "When you look at me you see a certain time of year." What specific time of year (a.k.a. season) isn't revealed until the next line, but it's clear that this poem will be dealing with the nature and passage of time in some way. Already, the poem is highlighting its metaphorical landscape: this is not a poem about nature, but one that uses nature to speak about human beings.
This first line also hints at the human relationship that grounds the poem. Through the phrase “in me,” which will be repeated as an anaphora in each quatrain, the speaker establishes the poem’s first-person perspective. But the use of “thou” shows that the poem is framed as an apostrophe to a specific listener. Despite how old-fashioned it might sound, "thou" is actually the informal form of the second person singular (that is, of "you"), which suggests that the speaker and the addressee have an intimate relationship.
Finally, the line establishes the poem's use of iambic pentameter, the classic da DUM rhythm one would expect in a Shakespearean sonnet. The first line follows the even rise and fall of its chosen metrical pattern flawlessly (which, in hindsight, may reflect the aging speaker's skill having been accumulated over time). The line is divided into five feet (the basic unit of poetic measurement), each one consisting of an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable:
That time | of year | thou mayst | in me | behold
For the most part, the rest of the poem will follow this steady rhythm. The line is also enjambed, a formal quality that helps create a coherent extended metaphor within each quatrain as the lines overflow from one to the next.
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
Unlock all 440 words of this analysis of Lines 2-4 of “Sonnet 73: That time of year thou mayst in me behold,” and get the Line-by-Line Analysis for every poem we cover.
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Get LitCharts A+In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
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 see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
In “Sonnet 73,” autumn and twilight are located within the larger constructs of seasons and days. These natural cycles become symbols of the human lifespan.
In order to describe his age precisely, the speaker must place himself within the broader sequence of birth, youth, middle age, old age, and death. Focusing on particular moments in the year allows him to do just that. Even as the tree shakes in the cold, a memory remains of the birds that once sang amidst its branches. Even as the sun sets, the fading light is a reminder of its midday radiance. Through these metaphors, the speaker implies that he is no longer in his youth nor even in early middle age. At least in his own perception, the speaker is old enough to be seriously approaching death.
In addition to describing twilight, the second quatrain explores the symbolic association between night and death. This symbolic resonance is an ancient one, and Shakespeare makes use of it in several other sonnets. “Sonnet 30,” for example, describes friends who have been lost to “death’s dateless night.” In “Sonnet 73,” night is presented as a shadow of death. All eyes close in rest during the nightly darkness, mimicking the way death closes one's eyes for the last time.
The poem uses a dying fire as a metaphor for the speaker’s advancing age and limited lifespan. In doing so, it plays on several of fire’s many time-honored, symbolic resonances.
Fire’s association with life itself has remained constant since ancient times. In Greek mythology, for example, the titan Prometheus famously gave humans the gift of fire. This gift was the spark of life and of warmth, giving humanity a great deal of power. Shakespeare explicitly associates fire with life in Macbeth, where the title character exclaims, “Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow . . .” In “Sonnet 73,” the dying flame is, metaphorically, the speaker’s own life. Fire’s power to devour all it touches also features in the poem, which offers a paradoxical presentation of how fire both consumes and is consumed.
Finally, the poem may also hint at fire’s association with love and passion. The romantic relationship between the speaker and the addressee is, in a sense, the situation that generates the poem’s argument.
Sonnet 73 includes many instances of alliteration. One of the strongest and most evocative moments comes in lines 7 and 8, with the intense repetition of /b/, /d/, and /s/ sounds. This is also the first time that the point has actually mentioned death directly, and as such it seems like a fitting moment for the speaker to amp up the poetic intensity! The extensive /s/ sounds in these lines also create clear sibilance, adding to line 8's hushed quality; the /s/ sounds combined with other soft consonance of /th/ and /l/—in "death," "second," "self," "seals" "all," etc.—create the sensation that this line itself is hushed, sealed up by death.
The one sound that does echo throughout the poem is the /th/ sound, often because it is attached to the word “thou.” “Thou” is repeated five times throughout the poem, in lines 1, 5, 9, 13, and 14, and in four of those instances “thou” is placed beside another word beginning with /the/. This insistent repetition emphasizes the speaker’s laser-like focus on the addressee, even as the poem’s content largely focuses on the speaker’s condition. It also speaks to the unrepeatable nature of this particular person, and encourages the lover to think of the speaker in the same way.
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Get LitCharts A+Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
Informal versions of "you/your." They sound old fashioned to modern ears but wouldn't have in Shakespeare's day.
“Sonnet 73” is a Shakespearean sonnet—the name given to the English sonnet form first used by Sir Thomas Wyatt but popularized by Shakespeare. The Shakespearean sonnet is divided into three consecutive four-line quatrains followed by one two-line couplet. The "problem" of the poem is often described in all three quatrains, leaving only those final two lines for a resolution. In this way, the Shakespearean sonnet departs from the older Italian sonnet form, in which the 14 lines are divided into an octave of eight lines (which contains two quatrains of four lines each) and a sestet of six lines (which contains two tercets of three lines each). There, a problem is often set up in the octave, while a “volta” or turn in the sestet moves toward a resolution.
While some of Shakespeare’s sonnets depart from these conventions at certain points, “Sonnet 73” follows them closely. Structurally, the poem’s content follows its form. Each quatrain describes a different example of natural decline that reflects the speaker’s advancing age. Shakespeare’s control over the quatrain is on display here—each one is a carefully crafted unit offering a distinct and coherent image (autumn, twilight, a dying fire).
Because the Shakespearean sonnet leaves significantly more space than the Italian sonnet for setting up a problem, the paradoxical nature of the couplet’s resolution also appears in a sudden and strong burst. The final two lines transform the way readers have been encouraged to see decay (that is, as a negative force that lays waste to that which was once young and beautiful). The quatrains’ relentless descriptions of decay are undercut when the couplet suggests that the speaker’s decline actually causes the addressee’s love for him to grow.
Like most sonnets in English, “Sonnet 73” is written in iambic pentameter. The poem’s metrical variation is minimal—most lines contain 10 beats per line divided into 5 “feet” (the basic unit of poetic measurement) that each consist of one unstressed syllable followed by one stressed syllable. Note, for example, the regular meter used in the first line:
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
This lack of variation may at first seem surprising, given that the poem is about changes over time. It is important to remember, however, that the poem presents change as a natural and inevitable process. Aging and death are presented as unchangeable facts of life, and the poem’s extremely regular meter might be said to mirror the relentless march of time.
Where the poem does contain metrical variation, the irregularities are tied to the lines’ content. For example, the use of spondees (stressed-stressed) in line 4 underscores the lack of visual contrast and variation in the late autumn landscape: the trees, stripped of green leaves and no longer home to singing birds, are a sea of bare brown branches.
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
The strongly stressed first syllable of line 13, “this,” emphasizes how all of the poem’s previous content is gathered into a single word. Placing the stress on “this” and leaving the following word “thou” unstressed creates a trochee and therefore a trochaic inversion at the beginning of the line:
This thou
This is one of the most common forms of metrical inversion in an iambic pentameter poem. As the poem’s “volta” or turn occurs here, in the final couplet, the trochee draws attention to it.
The rhyme scheme of "Sonnet 73" follows the expected pattern for a Shakespearean sonnet:
ABABCDCDEFEFGG.
As with its regular meter and adherence to the usual Shakespearean sonnet form, the poem’s regular rhyme scheme plays into the poem’s stance toward old age and death. The rhyme scheme is exactly what we would expect to see in a Shakespearean sonnet, paralleling the speaker’s recognition that the aging process always advances as time progresses and always ends in death.
This rhyme scheme allows for sonic continuity within each quatrain and couplet, and sonic shifts between each unit. Since the three quatrains describe three instances of natural decline, the shifts in rhyme sounds between them further emphasize the distinct and coherent nature of the images contained therein. The couplet’s break from the quatrain’s alternating rhymes, on the other hand, parallels the poem’s surprising suggestion that two people might grow closer because they know that death will divide them. The closeness of the couple described in the final two lines is emphasized through the perfect end rhymes, which form a “couplet.” In Italian, that couplet would be described as a “rima baciata”—a kissing rhyme.
Literary critics puzzle over how to characterize the speaker of Sonnet 73. Because Shakespeare’s sonnets were published as a sequence and contain thematic links, some argue that there is a single speaker throughout. Some associate that speaker with Shakespeare himself. “Sonnet 73” also falls within the sequence’s first 126 sonnets, which together seem to be written from the perspective of an aging male poet to an attractive male youth. Furthermore, many have perceived a narrative arc linking sonnets 72 through 74. In each one, an aging speaker explores how his closeness to death affects his relationship to a younger lover. The speaker of “Sonnet 73” is clearly getting up there in years, and his addressee's reaction suggests that this person is younger than the speaker (such a reaction would probably not be necessary if both were the same age and equally likely to die of old age).
Without the context provided by the other sonnets, however, the reader can’t say for certain that the speaker is male, that the lover is male, or perhaps even that the lover is younger than the speaker. The defining characteristic of the poem’s speaker is advancing age. In the quatrains, the speaker seeks to evoke empathy by comparing the aging process to three natural instances of decline. The descriptive language used is pathetic—the trees “shake” in the cold, night “[takes] away” day and is akin to “death,” and that which “nourish’d” the fire becomes its demise. In the couplet, the speaker suggests that the lover’s affection grows upon recognizing these natural signs of aging. It is not entirely clear whether the speaker beholds this reaction in the lover and is simply describing it, or whether the speaker instead wishes the lover will react this way. This ambivalence contributes to the poem's universality, since the language used could apply to a couple of very different situations.
On the most basic level, the poem’s setting is the natural world in which the speaker and the beloved exist. Although “Sonnet 73” describes three different scenes from nature, those descriptions do not constitute the setting. Each of those scenes are located “in” the speaker, making the speaker himself the clearest reference point for the poem’s location. This means that the setting of “Sonnet 73,” like many of Shakespeare’s sonnets, is nonspecific. This lack of specificity contributes to the poem’s perceived universality and continued popularity in a variety of contexts.
By placing the poem in context, one might also interpret its setting to be Elizabethan England. The first 126 of Shakespeare’s sonnets largely explore a relationship between an aging poet and an attractive young man. If we follow the argument that the aging-poet-speaker might be closely identified with Shakespeare himself, we might then place the poem in the 1590s in England, when and where the poem was written. Furthermore, the poem’s form, meter, and rhyme scheme identify it as an English sonnet. Implicitly, then, it is in conversation with the many other love sonnets written in England in the 1590s. In that particular time and place, love sonnets were hugely popular.
In a broad sense, “Sonnet 73” is in conversation with the Renaissance sonnet tradition as a whole. Petrarch’s 14th-century Rime Sparse, a series of 366 poems largely exploring the relationship between the speaker and his beloved but unreachable Laura, had enormous influence on the English literary tradition. Most of its 317 sonnets contain an octave and a sestet rhymed ABBA ABBA CDE CDE (or CDCDCD). Shakespeare follows Sir Thomas Wyatt’s revised rhyme scheme (ABAB CDCD EFEF GG), which took hold in 16th-century England. Shakespeare was also directly influenced by Sir Philip Sidney’s Astrophil and Stella (1591), a love sonnet sequence that initiated a sonnet craze in England.
“Sonnet 73” is part of a larger sequence of 154 poems published under Shakespeare’s name in 1609. Unlike those of his precursors, Shakespeare’s sonnets do not focus on heterosexual love between a man and a virtuous, golden-haired woman. The last thirty or so poems, for example, center on a “dark lady,” and it is clear that the speaker is in a sexual relationship with the unnamed woman he describes and sometimes insults.“Sonnet 73,” on the other hand, forms part of the first 126 poems, which involve an aging male poet and a fair (but not always virtuous) young man. By exploring these relationships, Shakespeare works within a conventional literary form to challenge literary and cultural values.
Though the sonnets were published less than a decade before Shakespeare’s death in 1616, the poems were likely written in the early 1590s. This would place the poems’ composition early in Shakespeare’s literary career. By the late 1590s, Shakespeare had written over a dozen plays, but had yet to write Hamlet, Macbeth, or The Winter’s Tale. In the sonnets, he was already exploring the themes of time, mortality, love, and infidelity that would become important in these later plays.
Although the sonnet vogue faded shortly after Shakespeare’s poems were published, the poems themselves remained hugely influential. Critics have often been drawn to a biographical interpretation of the poems, leading some 18th and 19th century editors to downplay the same-sex desire implied in the early sonnets. Even so, the poems continued to be printed, and many poets have used "Sonnet 73" as a source. John Keats, who famously kept a bust of Shakespeare and a copy of the sonnets nearby while he wrote, used “Sonnet 73” as inspiration for his “Ode to a Nightingale.” One notable recent homage to “Sonnet 73” is the English poet Jo Shapcott’s “2014/2015,” in which each of the 14 lines is a kind of meditation on Shakespeare’s words.
Although some scholars believe the sonnets were written as early as the 1580s or as late as the 1600s, most date the poems to the 1590s. We know that some sonnets were circulating in manuscript during this time, and at least five of them appeared in a volume called The Passionate Pilgrim in 1599. Historically, this would place this poem's composition during an unusually peaceful period of English history. Even so, the English people had one major concern about Queen Elizabeth: she was aging, and she was both unmarried and childless. Less than one hundred years earlier, England had been torn apart by decades-long wars over succession to the throne. Shakespeare’s contemporaries were not keen to undergo a similar crisis, and this anxiety appears in much literature in the period. Shakespeare himself devoted many history plays to the Wars of the Roses, and 17 sonnets to the idea that a fair youth ought to father children and produce copies of himself.
Against this political background, “Sonnet 73”’s focus on aging and death would have struck a chord. Significantly, this poem (unlike others in the sequence) refuses to discuss what might come after death. It does not explore the dominant religious belief that heaven or hell await the departed, nor potential connections between the dead and the living (a huge topic within religious debates at the time). Instead, it encourages readers to channel their knowledge of death’s power to divide into a strengthened focus on the present. Perhaps this message might have encouraged Shakespeare’s contemporaries to cherish their aging queen during her lifetime, rather than worrying about the uncertain future.
"Sonnet 73" Read Aloud — In this YouTube video by Socratica, hear Jamie Muffett read Sonnet 73 aloud.
British Library: Introduction to the Sonnets — This higher-level introduction to Shakespeare's sonnets explores the poems' importance to British literary history and their continued relevance today. It also includes a number of images relating to sonnet history.
LitCharts Shakescleare Translations — Here at LitCharts we've "translated" all of Shakespeare's sonnets into modern English to help you understand them.
CrashCourse: Introduction to Shakespeare’s Sonnets — This YouTube video, part of a CrashCourse series on literature, offers a twelve-minute introduction to Shakespeare's sonnets led by young adult author John Green.
Facsimile of "Sonnet 73" from Quarto 1 (1609) — Here you can see a facsimile—a reproduction of a printed text—of the first edition of Shakespeare’s sonnets.