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.
It often seems as though the sea inspires two sensations in most everyone who beholds it. One is a sense of peace and tranquility before the vast expanse of blue, lulled by the playful lapping of waves upon the shore. The other is a sense of one’s own insignificance and the brevity of our lives in face of the sea’s immensity and untamable power.Born in 1564, William Shakespeare incorporated imagery of the sea many times in his writings. One such example is Sonnet 60. The poem was published in 1609 and is contained in the “Fair Youth” sequence of Shakespeare’s 154 sonnets, along with those that address a fair youth with whom the poet shares a deep friendship.
Lost to Time
Most of the sonnet describes time’s dominion over all of creation. The language implies that a battle is taking place, with our minutes contending with each other for the present moment.
The line stating that time “delves the parallels in beauty’s brow” is a reference to trench warfare at the time. Time rescinds its former gift of life at its prime, and scrawls its signature on every face, and leaves furrows in the forehead. Like a reaper, time stands ready with a scythe to cut down every living thing, diligent in keeping to the time of harvest.
No mention is made of the beloved until the final couplet, which is unusual for one of Shakespeare’s sonnets. Instead, time is the main focus. Is this because all is swallowed up in time? Or is it that the beloved, despite the overshadowing presence of time, emerges at the end regardless of his might?
Without a doubt, man himself does not escape time’s might. With the verb “crawls,” Shakespeare references both the crawling of an infant and the slow, impeded movement of old age—both actions happening in the same word, referring to the seasons of life. Another reference lies in the phrase “the flourish set on youth,” with the word “flourish” deriving from the Latin word meaning “to bloom.” Here, however, youth’s flower is quickly mowed down and harvested by time’s scythe just as youth begins to bloom.
Metamorphosis
Notes in the Arden Shakespeare, scholarly editions of Shakespeare’s works, further elaborate that there is a reference to the Book of Job implicit in the poem, hearkening back to the verse: “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away.” This comparison to God as the benevolent giver elevates time in stature far above the human race.However, at the same time, God paid back several fold what had been taken away, multiplying the blessings that Job previously had. Shakespeare plays on a similar dynamic in Sonnet 60.
But look, as every wave drives other forth, and that that comes behind both thrusteth and is thrust itself. Even so the times by kind Do fly and follow both at once, and evermore renew. For that that was before is left, and straight there doth ensue Another that was never erst.
The philosopher expounds on his theory that the universe exists in eternal flux and that nothing is ever truly lost. Instead, though time flows on like a river in continual motion, it does not destroy but only renews what is swept along by its waves. Everything seemingly lost to time is transformed; nothing dies, but instead takes on a different form.
The Permanence of Art
As time snatches back its own gift, the minutes given to us dissipate with the brevity of sea foam. Shakespeare, however, extracts hope from the would-be dire straits.The final couplet contains the irony that while everything stands to be mowed down by time’s scythe, the poet’s verse stands to benefit from it. The poem ends neither in certainty nor despair, but in hope. The final word is praise, ending the attack on and by time that the rest of the poem has been developing.
In the end, Shakespeare elevates the power of the creative mind and art. The verses defy time, and each successive minute that passes proves their strength, even long after the speaker and beloved have gone. The praise remains, proving that time is not omnipotent and does not have a claim on everything.
The ending couplet puts me in mind of sea glass: shards of man-made glass repeatedly tumbled and washed by the waves. They take on the beauty of frosted stone while retaining their color. In this way, too, the poem’s beauty is not diminished but rather increased by the violent onrush of time, for each successive minute proves its strength and truth, and achieves a small victory in the battle against time.
