Sonnet 97. How like a winter hath my absence been

How like a winter hath my absence been

From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!

What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!

What old December's bareness everywhere!

And yet this time removed was summer's time

The teeming autumn big with rich increase

Bearing the wanton burden of the prime

Like widowed wombs after their lords' decease: