In memory of a friend and fellow literature lover

The holidays are over and the new year has already brought about tragedy. A very good friend and colleague passed away unexpectedly last week. I'm still lost for words, but as she was a passionate Shakespeare scholar, I think one of his sonnets may function as a suitable commemoration.

Sonnet 60 - William Shakespeare

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.