This sonnet uses winter, night, and a dying fire as metaphors for the inevitable approach of Death.
Sonnet 73 - Wikipedia
This sonnet is excellent to use for literary elements, TPCASTT analysis, and for a student to connect their own experience of time passing by too quickly. While old age and death may seem far away for our students, the final activity will help them understand exactly what Shakespeare is trying to say to his readers.
The narrator opens the poem by comparing the passing of his life to the season autumn, which quickly fades into the cold, barren winter. He also compares his dwindling time to common motifs such as twilight, and the embers of a once-roaring fire. Literary Element. Theme Connection.
- Looking Back.
- Sonnet 73 Analysis - Literary devices and Poetic devices.
- Breathe consciously and be happy!: the breath which turned my whole life.
- That time of year thou mayst in me behold (Sonnet 73).
- Summary of Sonnet 73;
- Sonnet 73 by William Shakespeare | Sonnet 73 Analysis;
A Quick Synopsis of "Sonnet 73" The narrator opens the poem by comparing the passing of his life to the season autumn, which quickly fades into the cold, barren winter. Buy Shakespeare's Sonnets on Amazon. Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds, And now his woven girths he breaks asunder; The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds, Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder; The iron bit he crushes 'tween his teeth Controlling what he was controlled with.
His ears up-prick'd; his braided hanging mane Upon his compass'd crest now stand on end; His nostrils drink the air, and forth again, As from a furnace, vapours doth he send: His eye, which scornfully glisters like fire, Shows his hot courage and his high desire. Sometime her trots, as if he told the steps, With gentle majesty and modest pride; Anon he rears upright, curvets and leaps, As who should say, 'Lo!
For rich caparisons or trapping gay? He sees his love, and nothing else he sees, Nor nothing else with his proud sight agrees. Look, when a painter would surpass the life, In limning out a well-proportion'd steed, His art with nature's workmanship at strife, As if the dead the living should exceed; So did this horse excel a common one, In shape, in courage, colour, pace and bone Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long, Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostril wide, High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong, Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide: Look, what a horse should have he did not lack, Save a proud rider on so proud a back.
Sometimes he scuds far off, and there he stares; Anon he starts at stirring of a feather; To bid the wind a race he now prepares, And whe'r he run or fly they know not whether; For through his mane and tail the high wind sings, Fanning the hairs, who wave like feather'd wings.
He looks upon his love, and neighs unto her; She answers him as if she knew his mind; Being proud, as females are, to see him woo her, She puts on outward strangeness, seems unkind, Spurns at his love and scorns the heat he feels, Beating his kind embracements with her heels. Then, like a melancholy malcontent, He vails his tail that, like a falling plume Cool shadow to his melting buttock lent: He stamps, and bites the poor flies in his fume. His love, perceiving how he is enrag'd, Grew kinder, and his fury was assuag'd. His testy master goeth about to take him; When lo!
More by William Shakespeare
As they were mad, unto the wood they hie them, Out-stripping crows that strive to over-fly them. I prophesy they death, my living sorrow, If thou encounter with the boar to-morrow. William Shakespeare Three Songs Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,-- The wild waves whist-- Foot it featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
Hark, hark! Bow, wow, The watch-dogs bark: Bow, wow.
Analysing Sonnet 73: “That time of year thou mayst in me behold” by William Shakespeare
I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow! This life is most jolly.
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Related Sonnet 73 (That time of year thou mayst in me behold)
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