'400 Years Young'

Today's London Independent 'Life' section has seven pages here on (and reprinting) Shakespeare's sonnets, with an introduction by Boyd Tonkin. Then various people recommend their favourite sonnets, including Bonnie Greer, Amanda Craig, Ian McKellan and Jo Shapcott, who chooses no 73 :-

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,
Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.