Sonnet 104

Text: 

William Shakespeare

Commissioned by: 

The Sapphire Consort

Published by: 

Fresh Ayre Music
Item Voicing Perusal scores/Recordings Price
FAM-0059-01 SATB (div), French horn

$3.25

Text:

Sonnet 104

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were, when first your eye I ey'd,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure and no pace perceiv'd;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion and mine eye may be deceiv'd:
For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred;
Ere you were born, was beauty's summer dead.