You are about to action:

Object being modified by the action

Do you want to proceed?

Share Video Link

https://www.bitchute.com/video/DCSxhTpavyve/

Click to copy, then share by pasting into your messages, comments, social media posts and websites.

Embed Video HTML

Click to copy, then add into your webpages so users can view and engage with this video from your site.

Share to Social Media

Share to social media by clicking on the quick share links.

Report Content

Reason

Please select the most appropriate reason from the list provided.

Note: For a more detailed description of each reason, see our Community Guidelines.

Additional Comments

Please add any additonal comments that will help with the assessment of your request.

Note: Copyright claims must contain all the items specified within the Copyright Policy.

Email Submissions

We also accept reports via email. Please see the Guidelines Enforcement Process for instructions on how to make a request via email.

Thank you for submitting your report

We will investigate and take the appropriate action.

Add to Playlist

"Sonnet 60" by William Shakespeare

Next video playing soon

Click to cancel

Autoplay has been paused

Click to watch next video

First published at 02:00 UTC on May 7th, 2021.

#shakespeare
#sonnets

sststr

subscribers

BitChute Advertisement

You can support me on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/sststr

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, o…

You can support me on Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/sststr

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd,
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

LESS