An essay on Shakespeare's 12th Sonnet.

1. When I do count the clock that tells the time, 2. And see the brave day sunk in hideous night; 3. When I behold the violet past prime, 4. And sable curls, all silvered o'er with white; 5. When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, 6. Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, 7. And summer's green all girded up in sheaves, 8. Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard, 9. Then of thy beauty do I question make, 10. …

…word from line 2 above. <Tab/>Sonnet 12 is an incredible poem. I feel connected to it in many ways. I complete feel that Shakespeare really knew that all would fall in love with this sonnet, especially if they would just learn what it means, not exactly, but to each individual person. That is what I believe; the sonnet is an individual poem, in which individuals like it, but for their own reasons.