A devouring force, Time is commanded to blunt the lion’s paws, pluck the tiger’s teeth, and burn the legendary phoenix—nothing in the natural world escapes its hunger. The speaker’s early imperatives—blunt, pluck, burn—almost egg Time on, creating a complicit, reckless energy. He even gives Time free rein over seasons and fading earthly beauties, as if collaborating in destruction. But then a sharp turn occurs: he forbids Time from carving wrinkles on his beloved’s brow or tracing lines there with an antique pen. This prohibition feels desperate and tender, a protective plea born of love. The mood pivots from the wild, violent sweep of universal decay to a hushed, intimate defiance. In the closing couplet, confidence surges: Time may do its worst, but the speaker’s verse will keep his love forever young. The sonnet becomes a personal and triumphant declaration that art outlasts mortality.
Sonnet 19: Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws — Summary
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws, And make the earth devour her own sweet brood; Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws, And burn the long-liv'd phoenix, in her blood; Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets, And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time, To the wide world and all her fading sweets; But I forbid thee one most heinous crime: O! carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow, Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen; Him in thy course untainted do allow For beauty's pattern to succeeding men. Yet, do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong, My love shall in my verse ever live young.