QUICK SUMMARY
Shakespeare fears that future readers will dismiss his praise of the young man as exaggeration, yet he insists that only a child — living proof of the youth’s beauty — can validate what poetry struggles to capture.
Full Poem: Sonnet 17 by William Shakespeare
Who will believe my verse in time to come,
If it were filled with your most high deserts?
Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say, “This poet lies;
Such heavenly touches ne’er touched earthly faces.”
So should my papers, yellow’d with their age,
Be scorn’d, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be term’d a poet’s rage
And stretched metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice, in it and in my rhyme.
Analysis
Sonnet 17 concludes the sequence of procreation sonnets (1–17) with an emotional, self-aware meditation on poetry, truth, and legacy. Shakespeare returns to a central anxiety: that the beauty of the young man is so extraordinary that future generations will not believe it. Even if he describes the youth honestly, readers will assume his verse is exaggerated or fictional.
The only solution, the poet insists, is for the youth to have a child — a living testament to his beauty that will confirm Shakespeare’s words. The sonnet thus blends humility, admiration, and urgency, creating a powerful transition into the sonnets of poetic immortality that follow.
The Problem of Praise and the Limits of Poetry
The sonnet opens with a question that captures Shakespeare’s anxiety as a poet:
“Who will believe my verse in time to come…?”
Although he is confident in the youth’s beauty, he doubts his own ability to record it in a way that future readers will find credible. The phrase “most high deserts” refers to the youth’s extraordinary virtues. Shakespeare knows that his praise may seem extravagant to those who never saw the youth in person.
He further admits that his poetry is “but as a tomb,” something that hides more than it reveals. A tomb preserves a body but conceals its vitality; similarly, Shakespeare’s verse preserves an image but not the living presence of the beloved. Even the best poetry is inadequate compared to the youth himself.
Future Readers Will Think the Poet Lied
Shakespeare continues with a hypothetical fear:
“If I could write the beauty of your eyes…
The age to come would say, ‘This poet lies.’”
This confession underscores the poet’s belief that the youth’s beauty is almost unbelievable. If Shakespeare writes truthfully, people will think he is lying. If he writes modestly, he fails to capture the full extent of the youth’s grace. This no-win situation becomes the emotional core of the poem.
The phrase “heavenly touches ne’er touched earthly faces” reflects Renaissance fascination with ideal beauty. The youth’s features seem too perfect to be real, too divine to be human. Readers in the future, unfamiliar with him, will assume he is a literary invention.
Poetry as an Aging, Unreliable Witness
The third quatrain deepens the poet’s anxiety:
“So should my papers, yellow’d with their age, / Be scorn’d…”
As years pass, Shakespeare imagines his manuscripts aging, yellowing, and becoming less credible. Old texts can appear outdated or exaggerated, much like “old men of less truth than tongue” — those who talk more than they know. The poet fears his work will be dismissed as fantasy rather than truth.
“Stretched metre of an antique song” conveys two ideas:
- That future readers will consider his style archaic.
- That his praise will seem inflated or artificially extended.
This anxiety about the survival and interpretation of poetry was common in Renaissance literature, but Shakespeare expresses it with unusual vulnerability.
The Child as Proof and Immortality
The sonnet turns in its final couplet:
“But were some child of yours alive that time…”
If the youth has a child, Shakespeare’s poetry gains a witness. The child inherits the youth’s beauty and becomes proof that the poet’s praise was accurate. In this scenario, Shakespeare’s verse and the youth’s lineage work together to preserve truth.
“You should live twice, in it and in my rhyme” is one of the most striking lines in the early sonnets. It encapsulates Shakespeare’s dual promise:
- Biological immortality through procreation
- Artistic immortality through poetry
This double-life becomes Shakespeare’s final appeal. Sonnets 1–17 have urged the youth to reproduce, but Sonnet 17 brings the argument to its most personal and poetic conclusion. It is not just beauty at stake, but truth itself. Only a child can validate the poet’s words and secure the youth’s place in the future.
The End of the Procreation Sequence
Sonnet 17 closes the first major movement of the sonnet collection. Sonnets 1–14 used imagery of nature, seasons, and responsibility. Sonnets 15–16 began introducing poetry as a complementary means of preservation. Sonnet 17 completes the transformation by positioning poetry and procreation as equal partners in defying time.
After this sonnet, Shakespeare transitions into a new mode: praising the youth not only through persuasion but through artistic preservation.
Themes of Truth, Beauty, and Testimony
Several major themes run through the poem:
- The inadequacy of language: Shakespeare cannot fully capture the youth’s beauty, no matter how skilled his verse
- The anxieties of posterity: How will future readers understand, doubt, or reinterpret the poet’s praise?
- The relationship between art and reality: Poetry preserves beauty but also distorts or simplifies it.
- The necessity of a witness: A child, as a living reflection of the youth, authenticates the poet’s descriptions.
- Immortality through both lineage and literature: The youth’s beauty lives on physically in his offspring and artistically in Shakespeare’s verse.
Why Sonnet 17 Resonates Today
Sonnet 17 speaks to a deeply human concern: the fear of being misunderstood or forgotten by future generations. Shakespeare’s anxiety mirrors modern worries about legacy, representation, and truth. Can art truly capture a person? Will future audiences understand the context, the emotion, the reality behind the words?
The sonnet also resonates because it expresses admiration without flattery. The poet’s praise is intense, but grounded in the fear that beauty may vanish unrecorded. His solution — poetry — feels both humble and ambitious: the attempt to preserve what time seeks to erase.
Above all, Sonnet 17 is about the struggle to make temporary beauty last. It affirms the power of art while acknowledging its limits, and it marks a pivotal moment in Shakespeare’s evolving reflections on memory, love, and the passage of time.
