Weekly Interlinear Poem




Send me e-mail - robert15115@gmail.com
Robert Jackson

This is the poem for the week of December 15.
A new interlinear poem is available each Monday.


Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore

-Shakespeare's Sonnet No. 60


Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
make towards=make their way towards
So do our minutes hasten to their end,
Each changing place with that which goes before
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
In sequent toil=in sequential toil
all forwards do contend=in forward motion fight their way.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Nativity=new-born child
main=sea
Crawls to maturity, wherewith, being crowned,
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight
Crooked eclipses=misfortunes
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
confound=overturn
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
transfix=render motionless
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
delves the parallels=digs the furrows
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
rarities of nature's truth=rare products of nature's perfection
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.
stands=exists
his scythe=Time's scythe
And yet, to times, in hope, my verse shall stand,
to times . . . shall stand=shall stand up to [the withering of] time
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
his=Time's





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 crowned,
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.