Volta project, day 19

Sonnet nineteen:

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XIX

  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.

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The yet … despite in line 13 is the volta.  I’d have written a little more (I survived the brutal week  J), but I’m getting on the highway right now (picking up my daughter from Ann Arbor).