Shakespeare’s Sonnet #55 “Not marble nor the gilded monuments”

Not marble nor the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme;

Reading of Sonnet 55

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The images in the YouTube video are from an original 1609 edition of Shake-speares Sonnets held by the British Library. It is one of only thirteen copies in existence. Images courtesy of the Octavo Corporation.

Modernized Spelling and Punctuation

Not marble nor the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war’s quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
‘Gainst death and all oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.

Simplified Modern English Translation

Neither marble nor monuments plated with gold,
honoring worldly princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme.
In fact, you shall shine more brightly in these sonnets
than old forgotten monuments ravaged with time and neglect.
Although ruinous wars can destroy carefully crafted statues,
and battles take their toll on elaborate stone temples,
Mars – the god of war himself – will be powerless to erase
this permanent record of your memory.
In spite of death and the universal threat of oblivion
you will always be remembered; your praise will always have a place,
even in the eyes of all posterity
until which time the world itself will end.
So until the Judgment when you yourself arise,
you live in this, and dwell forever in lovers’ eyes.

Text from Original 1609 Quarto

Transcription courtesy of University of Virginia Library:

Not marble, nor the guilded monument¹,
Of Princes shall out-liue this powrefull rime,
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Then vnswept stone, besmeer’d with sluttish time.
When wastefull warre shall Statues ouer-turne,
And broiles roote out the worke of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword, nor warres quick fire shall burne
The liuing record of your memory.
Gainst death, and all obliuious emnity
Shall you pace forth, your praise shall stil finde roome,
Euen in the eyes of all posterity
That weare this world out to the ending doome.
So til the iudgement that your selfe arise,
You liue in this, and dwell in louers eies.